


Miracles

by Snailhair



Series: Purpose [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel/Demon Sex, Angst, Babies, Destiny, Fate, Fluff, Jessica/Oliver - Freeform, Jollie, Jude/Clarence - Freeform, Judence, M/M, Miracles, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Smut, angel grace, first birthday party, talks with God, the bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 99,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: Dean and Castiel's son struggles to accomplish a very delicate goal as the rest of the family attempts to offer aid. Meanwhile, Death herself pays the Winchesters a visit and warns them of a diabolical plan that Lucifer is about to set in motion. (Series Finale.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Crowley/Bobby Singer, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: Purpose [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/775146
Comments: 434
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***Before you read*** For those who are unfamiliar, this story is the 11th and final part of the ‘Purpose’ Series. If you haven’t read any of the previous installments, you will most likely be entirely lost by the plot and characters. This story contains a lot of OCs, most of which take center stage in this last fic. You are more than welcome to start reading here, but I strongly suggest reading from the beginning to understand what’s going on. For those of you who know this story front, back, and sideways, and have been waiting patiently for this installment, I say to you: Hello, my beautiful, wonderful, devoted reader! I have missed you so dearly! And I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to start this. (I blame it on the fact that I don’t want it to be over, kind of like the show. If I don’t watch it/write it, then it never ends right? XD) 
> 
> Some things to take into consideration: 1) This fic takes place one full year after the events of ‘Perspective.’ 2) This opening chapter is kind of painful, but I promise if you can get through it, there will be sunshine and rainbows ahead. ;) and 3) The first chapter, and at least one other, will contain Judence smut. (Yay!) ;D Now, without any further ado, I give you ‘Miracles.’

With a deep and heavy sigh, Jude crammed some loose papers into the briefcase he borrowed from his uncle Sam as he led the way back to his shiny blue Impala. Oliver – Jude’s best friend and designated ‘FBI’ partner for the day – was right behind him, still scribbling away on the notebook and muttering to himself. The two of them had just exited an old lady’s house, who they interviewed to get information about some vampires in the area. Well, _Ollie_ did the interview. Jude kind of just sat there and let his mind wander to things he knew he shouldn’t have been thinking about.

“Young man… Black hair… Gray eyes,” Ollie mumbled, “Wait, did she say gray or blue? Hey, Jude, did she say gray or – ?”

“Gray,” Jude answered shortly.

Without another word, Jude slipped into the safety of his car and took a deep breath. His hands automatically rose to grip the steering wheel and the shiny ring on his left hand caught his attention. Of course, the sight of his wedding ring made him think of his husband Clarence, who was currently at work in Bobby’s salvage yard two states away. Though they had only saw each other that morning, Jude found that he missed the blonde demon. Missed him… and felt terrible at the same time. Jude was not in the mood for hunting that day. He didn’t feel like interviewing old ladies or tracking down vampires. He didn’t even want to hang out with Oliver. Jude’s mind and heart were far away, aching for something he didn’t have…

Oliver eventually climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala and stowed his tiny notebook in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Despite the obvious irritation that was bound to be plastered across Jude’s face, Oliver seemed unaware of his friend’s melancholy. His blissful ignorance was likely due to the fact that this was the first real case that the elder Winchesters had entrusted to the younger generation, and Oliver didn’t want to mess it up.

“Okay. So, the old lady gave us a detailed description of the vampire dude. I say we head back to HQ and come up with a plan to track him down,” Ollie happily suggested.

“HQ?” Jude repeated.

“Yeah. Headquarters. You know, base of operations? Secret underground lair? The Bunker?”

Jude’s eyes narrowed.

“… you mean home,” he realized.

Oliver’s smile dimmed a little but he shrugged, making his red hair feather to one side.

“Yeah, okay, it’s home. But Headquarters makes it sound so much cooler,” he winked.

Though Oliver was clearly trying to make this daunting task more enjoyable, Jude still couldn’t put his heart into it. Instead of indulging his friend, Jude started up the Impala, backed out of the stranger’s driveway, and headed for the interstate. It was only a twenty-minute drive back to the bunker to drop Ollie off… and then another five minutes for Jude to drive to his own house. It had been about six months since he and Clare moved out of the bunker and into a tiny home of their own. Jude usually visited his parents as often as he could. But with the mood he found himself stuck in, Jude didn’t think he could get away with seeing his parents without them asking what was wrong. Nothing was wrong, really. Jude had a perfect life, with a perfect husband, a perfect new house that was only five perfect miles away from the rest of his perfect family. He had money, good health, a car, clean water and a full kitchen. Jude had every single thing he had ever wanted… except for one…

The loud ring of Jude’s cell phone abruptly pulled him from his thoughts. He quickly felt around his person until he found the device in his pocket and quickly pulled it out to look at the screen. Papa was calling. Part of him considered letting it go to voicemail because he didn’t want to talk. But then he remembered that if he didn’t answer, Papa had the power to fly himself directly into the backseat of Jude’s moving car to see if everything was okay. In order to keep his angelic father from freaking out, Jude swiped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Pop,” Jude mumbled.

“Hello, son,” Papa’s voice was clearly tainted with worry, “What’s wrong?”

Jude sighed again as he stared hard at the road ahead of him. Being an angel, Papa could sense whenever Jude didn’t feel great no matter how far apart they were. Jude used to think it was endearing, but now it was only annoying.

“Nothing, Pop. I’m fine,” Jude answered as sweetly as he could.

“ _See, Cas? The kid’s fine. You worry too much,_ ” Jude heard his Dad’s muffled voice say in the background.

“Jude, I – I just want you to know that I love you very much,” Papa reminded as softly and quietly as his deep voice would allow, “And if you ever need anything, I will always be there to help in anyway I can.”

Jude gulped hard, feeling his nose tingle with an oncoming swell of tears. It was always nice to hear Papa say that. Papa never said anything unless he meant it with his whole heart. And while he was clearly worried for Jude’s emotional wellbeing, he was also trying to be subtle about it, which Jude appreciated.

“I love you too, Pop,” Jude replied.

“How are you doing?” Papa continued, “I haven’t seen you in three days.”

“I’m okay. Honest,” Jude lied.

“Very well,” Pop muttered, “Will you be attending the party tomorrow?”

“Party?” Jude asked.

As soon as Jude mentioned a party, Oliver sucked in an enormous gasp next to him. Jude glanced over to see shock and horror grow on his friend’s freckled face.

“Oh, shit! The party! _I’m so dead_!” Oliver squeaked.

“Yes. Tomorrow is your cousin Charlie’s first birthday party,” Papa said into Jude’s ear over the phone, “Will you be able to attend?”

Jude was momentarily caught between Oliver and his Papa, unsure of who to speak to first.

“Uh, yeah. Clare and I got her some gifts a few weeks ago. I just forgot about it,” Jude admitted, “Papa, can I call you back in a little while? I’m driving right now.”

“Of course, son,” Papa replied, “Please be safe and pray if you need me. I love you.”

“Love you too. Talk to you later,” Jude answered.

After hanging up his phone, Jude continued to glance between the road and Oliver’s pale face. The poor guy looked like a zombie; gripping his face with both hands as his mouth dangled open.

“How could I have forgotten about my own daughter’s first birthday?!” The ginger man groaned, “Man, I am so dead. It was nice knowing you, Jude. Jessica is going to kill me.”

“She’s not going to kill you,” Jude assured, “What did you have to do, anyway?”

“I was supposed to call the cake place in Lebanon and get Charlie’s cake scheduled for pick up tomorrow, but I totally forgot,” Ollie answered, hanging his head in his hands, “Ugh, I’m a terrible father. Who forgets their kid’s first birthday like that?”

Jude gulped again as he stared out at the road ahead of him. Of course, he felt awful for his friend who was trying their best to raise their first child, but Jude couldn’t help but think that _he_ would _never_ forget his child’s birthday… if he had a child… Though his own heart surged with pain at the thought, Jude ignored it to reach over and pat his friend on the shoulder.

“You’re not a bad father, Oliver,” Jude comforted, “You’ve just been focused on this case, that’s all. Go ahead and call the cake place and see if they’ll set up the appointment. I’ll swing by there tomorrow and pick up the cake on my way over.”

Though his own eyes were on the road, Jude could feel Oliver looking at him with surprise.

“Wh – what? Really? You’d do that?” Ollie squeaked.

“Well, duh. Why wouldn’t I?” Jude replied.

There was a small silence in which Jude took the final turn onto the road that led to the bunker and Oliver giggled shrilly in delight.

“I owe you so big for this, Jude,” Ollie said excitedly, “Whatever you want, you got it. Need your car washed? Done. Need your house cleaned? I’m on it. Need somebody murdered? I’m your guy! Just say the word!”

Though his spirit was strained, Jude still felt a smile spread across his slips for the first time that day. Maybe hanging out with Oliver for a while was just what the doctor ordered.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jude replied.

His blue Impala slowly rolled to a stop on the edge of the street where the main door of the bunker was barely visible. As he stared at the familiar doorway in the distance, Jude felt the sudden urge to go inside and see his parents. He thought about poking around in his old room and admiring all of his childhood things; attempting to find comfort in the place that brought him so much joy. But he ultimately decided against it. Everyone would likely try to press him into confessing what was wrong, and he didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, little baby Charlie was in there, and seeing her would make him feel a hundred times worse…

“I’m gonna call over there right now,” Oliver explained as he held his cell phone up to his ear and waved as he got out, “Have a great night, Jude. I’ll see you and Clare tomorrow.”

“Y – yeah,” Jude nodded, holding his hand up, “’Night, Ollie.”

After Oliver shut the passenger side door, Jude immediately faced the road and pulled away. He was trying to leave all the heartache and thoughts of childhood in the rearview mirror, but they stayed right there in the car with him. The pain kept him company all through Lebanon, up until his blue Impala found its way into his and Clare’s driveway. It came to rest in its usual spot next to Clare’s shiny motorcycle.

Their house was the smallest that Jude had ever seen. In fact, when they first came to look at it six months after getting married, Jude actually laughed when Clare suggested they could live there. It only had two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living room, and an even tinier kitchen. It was cute, but not realistic to live in. At least, that’s what Jude thought – until Jessica explained that she had already seen the place many times in her future dreams. Luckily, once Jude and Clare – along with help from their parents – started to move some furniture into it, the place gradually started to feel like a home. Not as cozy as the bunker could ever be, but it was _theirs_ ; something that Jude and Clare could call their own. And despite the small size, Jude was proud of it.

Jude noticed that the grass in the front lawn was getting a little high as he made his way up to the front door. He unlocked it with his keys and let himself inside, where the smell of Clarence hit him in the doorway. It was a masculine scent; like firewood and cologne. It made Jude breathe deeper as he walked in and tossed his keys on the kitchen table. The house was calm and silent, because Clare was still at work. Crowley was bound to bring him home sooner or later, but until then, Jude was alone. Part of him considered the isolation a blessing; a chance to clear his head and try to come to terms with what he was feeling. But another part knew that being alone wasn’t ideal in the least… especially when he glanced over to see the door of the second bedroom cracked open.

A tiny sliver of the room was visible from where Jude was standing. He caught sight of a half-painted wall and it made his stomach turn. Though he hadn’t stepped foot into the room for nearly three months, Jude knew exactly what waited beyond the door. The walls were partly painted, pieces of a bookshelf were laying on the floor still waiting to be put together… and a bassinet lay empty in the corner. Though it felt like stabbing himself in the chest, Jude carefully walked over to stare at the small baby crib through the crack.

Jude and Clarence had been trying to start a family since their honeymoon. They had sex in every way they could think of – grace on, grace off, demon-aura on, demon-aura off, Jude riding on top, Clare giving it from the top, during a full moon, during broad daylight, indoors, outdoors, under the effects of aphrodisiacs and potions, going at it sideways, doing it upside down – but nothing worked. Until they were almost ten months into their marriage. After a certain bout of sex in which Jude had his grace out, he felt a tingle in his stomach. Jude knew that they had finally conceived because his grace stayed alight around his stomach, just like Jessie’s did when she was pregnant with Charlie. With Jude’s belly aglow, he and Clare immediately told the family that they were pregnant, and everyone came over to celebrate. Rowena bought a bassinet, uncle Sam got a book shelf with baby books, and Clare and Jude were already thinking of baby names…

But the very next day, Jude’s grace fizzled back into his body. Papa and uncle Gabe immediately gave Jude a thorough exam to figure out what happened and if the baby was okay. But after the inspection, both angels reached the conclusion that there was never a baby in Jude’s grace to begin with. Gabe theorized that Jude wanted a baby so badly that his grace tried to make one out of nothing. At the time, the mere idea that his would-be child was a lie pissed Jude off beyond imagination. He was furious at uncle Gabe for ever suggesting that his grace was making it all up. In fact, he refused to talk to any of his family for several weeks afterward. But the reality of what happened eventually started to sink in. Now, Jude knew his uncle was right. Jude wanted a baby so much, he would have believed anything. He just wanted a baby so much… So very much…

After tearing his eyes away from the partially constructed nursery, Jude grabbed the handle and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed around the empty house, reverberating through the very depths of Jude’s soul. He didn’t want to think about what happened. Not anymore. It hurt too much. In an effort to keep himself from crying over it again, Jude quickly walked into the bathroom, flipped the light on, and grabbed the edges of the cold sink. His reflection was staring back at him through the mirror, but he didn’t want to look up. He couldn’t stomach the sight of his own face. The sight of his own despair.

“ _Hey Jude_ …”

Hairs on the back of Jude’s neck stood up at the sound of the familiar hum that came from the hallway. That voice was his favorite sound in the world…

“ _Don’t make it bad_ ,” Clare sang softly, “ _Take a sad song and make it better_ …”

Jude finally raised his head to look though the mirror and see Clarence come into view behind him. The handsome demon wasn’t covered in dirt and grease stains as he usually was when he came home from the salvage yard. Today, he was squeaky clean, and dressed in nice dark clothes. Jude took the time to study at Clare’s lovely face through the bathroom mirror, admiring his beautiful chestnut eyes and perfect grin. Clare strode up and slid his arms around Jude’s torso to hug him from behind as Clare’s lips briefly brushed against Jude’s neck. Jude savored the wave of tingles that raced down his back at the warm sensation. A single touch from his blonde demon was all it took to make Jude feel better.

“Hello, my beautiful blue-eyed husband,” Clare hummed, grinning at Jude’s reflection.

The smile on Jude’s face was genuine. He _adored_ being reminded that he was Clare’s husband.

“Hi,” Jude breathed back, easing back into Clare’s embrace, “You’re home early. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“That’s because I was already here,” Clare explained, pausing to peck another kiss to the side of Jude’s head, “I didn’t stay at work long because I had to run a few errands. You know, pick up some food, some candles, some lube –”

“Some _what_?” Jude interrupted.

Clare chuckled at Jude’s tone of surprise, making the humorous sound echo in the bathroom. He then raised up Jude’s left hand with his own, tilting them so that the matching rings on their fingers caught the light.

“Well, I figured since it’s been a whole year since we said our vows, we needed to celebrate properly,” he explained, pulling Jude’s hand up a little more to kiss the back of it, “You know, music, soft lighting, desserts, sex that could put pornstars to shame. That sort of thing.”

Jude saw his own smile dim dramatically in the bathroom mirror. Ever since their last failed attempt to conceive a child, the idea of sex made Jude feel shameful. He felt so bad about not being able to give Clare a baby; something that his cousin Jessie was able to do for her husband the very first night of their marriage. In all honesty, Jude was a little jealous of how effortlessly Jess and Ollie were able to start their family. It wasn’t fair that they could have a baby but Jude and Clare had to struggle... Of course, Clare noticed the discomfort on Jude’s face in their reflection. His own smile faltered and his arms tightened around Jude.

“Hey,” he murmured into Jude’s ear, “It’ll never happen if we don’t keep trying, right?”

Though Jude had been caught in a storm of emotions all day, hearing Clare say that felt like a beam of light breaking through the clouds. Jude’s smile carefully returned as he blinked at his husband in the mirror. If Clare wanted something, he never gave up on getting it. That was one of the things Jude admired most about him; the profound drive with which he achieved his goals, no matter what it took. Clare’s ambition and positivity were as solid as rocks, and Jude couldn’t have been more grateful to share his life with someone so genuine.

“Right,” Jude agreed, feeling his heart swell with pride as he gazed at his husband, “I love you so much, Clare.”

Clare smirked before kissing the side of Jude’s neck. This time, the hot, moist sensation sent jolts to Jude’s lower region and made his mouth topple open.

“I love you too, Jaybird,” the demon purred.

He gently twisted Jude around in his arms until they were facing one another. Jude, being slightly shorter than Clare, was instantly met with a potent waft of cologne from Clare’s chest. The intoxicating smell was enough to make his knees weak. But Jude didn’t have to worry about keeping his balance, because Clare pulled him closer and plunged their lips together, holding Jude as he walked backward out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

While Jude often missed the warmth and comfort of the bunker, he did not miss having to sneak around to get intimate with Clare. His childhood home was often so crowded with people, he and Clare barely got to do anything dirty. But now that they had their own home, they were free to have sex wherever and whenever they wanted. Jude half expected Clare to lead him back into the living room so they could do it on the couch, which was what they normally did when they were in the mood after Clare came home from work. Instead, Clare pulled Jude back into their bedroom – which was lit up with multiple candles. They weren’t normal candles, however. These had blue flames, just like the ones Clare decorated the bunker with when he proposed to Jude. Jude paused their kiss to gawk at the gorgeous setting of their bedroom, fondly approving of how the blue light glistened on the framed map of the world that hung over their queen-sized bed. Clare beamed with pride as he slipped his own shirt up over his head to expose his bare chest.

“You like it, Jay?” he asked.

Jude only nodded. He was too stunned to find proper words. The candles, mixed with the sight of Clare’s bare skin, were enough to make his mind feel like jello. Luckily, Clare took his silent response as a good sign.

“Good,” he hummed, stepping over to slip Jude’s jacket off, “There for a second, I thought I might have to go and grab my guitar. Spice it up a little more. I can still go get it if you – ”

“No,” Jude smirked a little, “It’s perfect.”

Clare smiled from under his mop of blonde hair as he continued to undress Jude. He paused again as he tugged at Jude’s tie.

“Has anyone ever told you how much you look like Cas when you wear this?” Clare asked, wiggling the blue tie around, “Honestly, the two of you could be twins.”

“Well, he’s my Papa, Clare,” Jude reminded, “Of course I look like – ”

Once again, Jude was interrupted by the ringing of his own cell phone. The muffled sound was coming from his jacket pocket, which was now laying on the floor. Jude was planning to ignore it and let it go to voicemail, but Clare – who was probably just trying to be helpful – knelt down and dug the phone out. He held the phone toward Jude, revealing that Papa was the one calling.

“Speak of the devil,” Clare muttered before swiping the answer button, “Hey, Cas… Yeah, we’re both home… No, he’s fine. You want to talk to him?”

Jude tried his best to shake his head in defiance, but Clare only grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Okay. Here he is,” the demon cooed.

Jude made sure that Clare could see the annoyed glare on his face before taking the phone. Clare only chuckled, finding humor in Jude’s less-than-thrilled reaction. After taking a deep breath, Jude brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Pop,” he mumbled.

“Did you pray to me, son? I thought I heard you call my name,” Papa asked urgently.

Jude closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He understood that Papa was an angel and could hear almost anything, but why couldn’t he give Jude at least a little space?

“No, I didn’t pray to you. I just mentioned your name when I was talking to Clare,” Jude explained as carefully as he could.

While Jude spoke on the phone, Clare continued undressing him; taking off Jude’s tie and shirt before sliding his pants down.

“Oh. My apologies,” Pop said quietly, “You still sound agitated, son, are you sure there isn’t something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Pop,” Jude sighed, “I – ”

The rest of Jude’s comment was lost when he felt a hot, wet tongue swirl around the tip of his dick. The sudden sensation caused the organ to jump, making him suck in a gasp and look down. Clare was kneeling on the floor in front of him, still wearing that devilish smirk as he licked around Jude’s private area. Clare’s mouth eventually engulfed the growing shaft, taking it all into the warm cavern and giving it a good suck. Every bad emotion that Jude had been feeling that day was gone, now. The only thing on his mind was watching and feeling his husband service him.

“Jude?” Papa’s voice asked over the phone, “Son, are you there? What happened? Do you need me to fly over?”

“ _No_ ,” Jude barked, horrified at the thought of his parent barging into this extremely personal moment, “Don’t come over. Clare and I are having – _gnah_ , um, d – dinner,” Jude lied as quickly as he could, “and it’s our anniversary, so we can’t share.”

“ _Dammit, Cas, leave the kids alone_ ,” Dad’s voice hissed in the background.

“ _I want to make sure our son is alright, Dean. He doesn’t sound well_ ,” Papa argued away from the phone.

Jude had to bite down a moan as Clare’s hand rose up to cradle his scrotum. When it came to oral sex, Clare was a master. Jude had a feeling that Clare learned his special techniques from some questionable places, but he didn’t care. All Jude cared about was the tsunami of pleasure inching up his body. Unfortunately, the sound of his parents’ voices threatened to take him out of the moment.

“ _Jude is obviously fine. Just say goodbye and hang up_ ,” Dad ordered in the background.

Papa sighed gruffly in irritation, but his voice came back over the line.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, son,” Papa said sadly, “Have a wonderful dinner with your husband. I will speak with you later. I love you.”

“Okay, love you, bye,” Jude said in a blur.

He hung up the phone and dropped it to the floor before anything else could be said. Luckily, the interruption wasn’t enough to get rid of Jude’s growing horniness. In fact, as soon as his hands were free, Jude reached down to grab Clare by the shoulders and hoist him back up to a standing position so that their mouths could meet again. The tiny ‘mmm’ that vibrated their kiss made Jude ache inside. He stepped out of his pants just in time to topple onto their bouncy bed.

From the mattress, Jude stared up at his husband as the demon finished undressing himself. The paleness of Clare’s skin made him almost glow in the blue candlelight. Jude gulped hard when he glanced down to see that Clare had a full erection. Wow, sucking Jude’s dick must have gotten him off, too. Clare stepped across the room to grab a tube from the dresser nearby before climbing onto the bed and sliding between Jude’s legs. No matter how many times they had done it, the feeling of Clare’s weight hovering over his naked body always made Jude want to moan. It was such a divine sensation, knowing that someone who loved him had total control; that he was being protected and cared for as well as pleasured.

Clare kissed Jude’s collarbone a few times as he dolloped some lube onto his own fingers and brought them down between Jude’s legs. Of course, Jude allowed it, separating his knees even further to give Clare better access. By this point, the two of them had sex so many times that this preparation was second nature. Jude knew the feeling of Clare’s fingers all too well. They were thin and gentle; a stark contrast to Clare’s erection, which was always much larger and lacked control at times. But on this occasion, Clare seemed to move even slower. His lips eventually found their way to Jude’s ear again, where his tongue flicked Jude’s earlobe.

“Do you… want to try again, Jay?” he asked.

Jude blinked up at their bedroom ceiling beyond Clare’s shoulder, watching the sapphire candle lights flicker on the flat surface. Clare’s question was soft and completely valid. He was asking if Jude wanted to try for a baby again. Part of Jude didn’t want to even think about trying. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go through any more heartbreak if they failed again. But Clare was right. If they didn’t try, how was it ever supposed to happen?

“… Yes,” Jude carefully agreed.

That was all Clare needed to hear. The demon nodded and kissed Jude’s neck before maneuvering his hardened shaft to Jude’s hole. Jude welcomed the large appendage, relaxing his muscles to let the hot erection slide deep inside. Jude groaned and clung to the bedsheets, secretly enjoying the echoes of pleasure that broke through the veil of pain. After only a few thrusts, the discomfort was gone completely, drowned out by the feeling of Clare’s hand sliding up and down Jude’s dick.

“Ah,” Jude called out, clinging to Clare’s tight shoulders as the demon thrust into him.

Clare hummed a little and briefly kissed Jude’s mouth as he picked up speed. Their headboard, as usual, was starting to tap against the wall with the movement. Clare reached up with his free hand to brace against the wood, silencing the noise and leaving their labored breath as the only sound in the room. After only a few moments, Jude carefully brought his grace forward. He was always slow about it, making sure to keep most of it back so that it wouldn’t harm Clare. Blue-ish white light began to illuminate his skin, turning the mostly blue atmosphere into a brighter color. Clare moaned at the drastic change, shuddering with pleasure on top of Jude.

“Argh,” Clare panted, “I love it when you do that.”

Jude whimpered, pleased that he was able to satisfy his husband. Clare’s thrusts picked up and Jude could tell that the demon was getting close to an orgasm. His breathing was hitching, his tight hand was moving in a blur around Jude’s erection, and his expression was skewing with desperation. His hand eventually fell off the headboard, allowing the wooden frame to smack hard against the wall as he buried his fingers under Jude’s back. Clare clung hard to Jude as he moved, inching closer and closer toward his finale. Jude focused most of his concentration on his grace, keeping it open and steady to receive Clare’s seed. ‘ _What if this is it?_ ’ the angel thought, ‘ _What if we actually make a baby this time?_ ’

“J – Jay,” Clare moaned, nuzzling his wet face into Jude’s shoulder, “I love you _so much_. _Ah_!”

Jude sucked in a throaty gasp as he felt Clare’s warm seed flood his insides. Whenever Jude’s grace was out, he was hyper aware of everything, including the tiny swimmers entering his body. Jude held onto Clare’s back as it happened, feeling a long the horizontal scar across the demon’s shoulders. There it was; his husband’s seed inside him. This was supposed to be the part where his grace made it take root.

After a few more thrusts, Clare slowly lifted his head and raised up to inspect Jude’s body. It was still glowing with grace, lighting up most of the room. But Jude continued to focus on the feeling of the fluid inside him. ‘ _Make it stick,_ ’ he internally begged his grace, ‘ _Please make it stick_.’ As they had done almost every time they had sex, Jude and Clare laid together and caught their breath in silence, both staring at Jude’s glowing stomach and waiting. Several minutes passed that way, until the lack of sound made Clare break.

“… Anything?” he murmured as softly as possible.

Jude gulped and released the hold on his grace. He figured that if he had gotten pregnant, his stomach would stay alight. But, alas, when the rest of his body went dark, so did his stomach. He couldn’t feel Clare’s seed anymore. It was just warmth inside him. There was no baby. No miracle this time. As he lay naked next to his husband, Jude felt himself start to tear up. He was stupid for thinking that this time would be any different…

“Nothing,” he wheezed.

Clare hung his head of messy blonde hair and sighed before reaching over to cradle Jude’s face. He turned Jude’s sight toward him so that they could meet eyes again. Despite feeling his heart breaking in his chest, the sight of Clare’s hopeful smile make Jude feel a little better.

“We’ll keep trying until it happens, Jay,” Clare promised, nodding, “because it _will_ happen.”

Jude wanted so much to believe the sentiment, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel the same hope as his husband. To keep Clare happy, Jude forced a smile and nodded. Clare leaned over to kiss the edge of Jude’s mouth before scooting off the bed.

“Don’t move, alright?” he requested, “Rowena and I made some desserts and I want to feed them to you in bed. I’ll be right back.”

With the fake smile still on his face, Jude nodded again and watched the naked demon dash out of the room. Once Clare was out of sight, however, Jude’s fake smile was immediately overtaken by the squinty grimace of a man on the verge of sobbing. Hot tears filled Jude’s eyes, blurring his vision as his quivering hands slid up to cradle his dark, empty stomach. His throat burned and his heart felt like it was shattered into a million pieces. Why couldn’t he conceive a child with his husband? Why?

As Jude momentarily lay naked and alone, his emotional turmoil ultimately got the best of him. He hugged himself and closed his eyes, causing hot tears to streak down both sides of his face. Apart from Clare, there was only one other person that understood Jude’s pain… and Jude was finally ready to be honest with him.

“You’re right, Papa,” Jude prayed under his breath, “Something _is_ wrong with me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes. I know. How dare I come back from a three-month hiatus only to slap you in the face with these kinds of feels? I should be ashamed of myself. And I am! Shame on me for doing this to you! *Beats myself up like Jim Carrey from ‘Liar, Liar’* XD I know Jude is in a tough emotional spot – and might be something that some of you can relate too – but I promise that what hurts now will feel a billion times better later. Trust the snail! ;D Apart from the story, how are you? I feel like I haven’t heard from you guys in such a long time, and I’ve missed you all! *hugs* :D One of the reasons I haven’t been posting lately is because I upgraded my tech. I got rid of my old laptop – one I purchased when I started college in 2011 – and got a brand new one, which I’m typing on now. New decade, new tech. ;D I hope that all of you are having a similarly wonderful start to your new year. :D As always, thank you all so much for taking the time to read this! I love you all! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Soft, high-pitched gurgles and coos slowly stirred Jessica out of her sleep. She knew exactly where the sound was coming from before she even opened her eyes. The sweet noises made a smile inch across her face as she rolled toward the right side of the room. The coos slowly grew louder and more assertive until they were almost whimpers. And then it started.

“ _Mum-mum-mum-mum_.” 

Donning a full grin, Jessica finally opened her eyes to look across the room at her little girl. Charlie was wide awake, standing up and clinging to the bars of her crib in her footsie pajamas. Her strawberry-blonde hair was a mess; jutting straight up and making her look like a mini troll doll. When she saw that Jess was looking at her, Charlie’s round face lit up with a gummy smile and she reached a hand through the wooden bars.

“Mum-mum-mum!” she said excitedly, bouncing a little bit on her bed.

The adorable sight made Jessica giggle. It was nice to wake up to her baby’s sweet call rather than her husband’s annoying snores. Next to her, Oliver was still out cold, sprawled on his back with his mouth open in a generic ‘sleeping dad’ pose. To let him get more rest, Jess shifted out from under the covers and stood up from the mattress as carefully as possible. Charlie bounced some more in her crib, already reaching her tiny hands up to be held.

“Good morning, gingersnap,” Jess hummed to her baby, “Are you excited for your birthday?”

At the moment, it seemed like the only thing Charlie was excited for was being taken out of her crib. She grinned and jumped, grasping with her tiny hands. Jessica obliged, scooping her one-year-old up into her arms and planting her on her hip. Charlie clung to Jess’s shirt, laying her head on her momma’s shoulder as if it was too heavy for her to hold up on her own. And with that weighty helmet of hair, Jess couldn’t blame her. 

“Aw. Momma loves you, honey,” Jess whispered to her baby, giving her soft head a kiss, “Are you ready for breakfast?”

Charlie’s head almost instantly popped back up and Jess giggled again. Of course Charlie was ready for breakfast. The kid was always eating something, just like her dad. Jess stole a glance toward her sleeping husband before cautiously maneuvering her way around the bedroom. What used to be Jessica’s bedroom now housed her, Ollie, and their baby. Her twin-sized mattress had been swapped out for a full-size, which took up quite a lot of space. And Charlie’s crib occupied even more room, not to mention the clothes, toys, books, and various other baby necessities. Attempting to walk out of the bedroom felt more like running a small obstacle course. But Jess didn’t mind the lack of space. As long as she was still in the bunker with her family, Jessica could put up with any number of inconveniences.

In the hall, Jess could already smell the scent of sweet pancakes and fresh coffee coming from the kitchen. The low chatter of grown men grew louder as she approached the doorway.

“Sounds like your grandpas are awake,” Jess mentioned to her daughter.

Charlie continued to cling to Jess’s shoulder and hair as they rounded the corner to walk into the kitchen. Jess’s parents were both standing at the kitchen stove. Papa was flipping pancakes while Dad poured some coffee. Uncle Dean and Cas were sitting at the table, talking quietly to each other in hushed tones. As soon as Jess entered the room, however, all the eyes fell on her and the baby in her arms. Papa instantly flew himself over to greet them.

“My baby girls!” the archangel sang, wrapping Jess and Charlie into one big hug and kissing each one, “Good morning! Whoa, look at the hair on you, kid. Did you go sky diving in your sleep or something?”

Papa ruffled Charlie’s wild hair and the baby giggled. Dad made his way over with a smile of his own, sipping from his coffee before leaning over to kiss the top of Jess’s head and Charlie’s too. 

“Hey, isn’t it somebody’s birthday today?” Dad asked as he tickled Charlie’s belly.

Papa gasped dramatically and snapped his fingers, using his grace to make a pointed rainbow party hat appear on his head. 

“That’s right! It’s party day! You’re a whole year old, snickerdoodle! That means you get cake!” Papa happily mused.

“It also means the rest of us are as old as dirt,” Dean grumbled from the table.

“Technically, Cassie and I are _older_ than dirt. So you’ve got nothing to complain about, princess,” Papa retorted. 

Uncle Dean only smiled and shook his head, clearly indifferent to Papa’s juvenile insults. While the two of them were speaking, Dad walked over to set up Charlie’s highchair near the table and patted the empty seat.

“Here,” he offered, “I’ll get you some baby food out of the cabinet.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jess replied.

Charlie seemed as eager as ever to get into her highchair. She started to smack her hands on the tray as soon as she sat down, mumbling in demand for her breakfast. Jess loosely strapped a bib around her neck as Dad walked over a few jars. Jess took all three from him, choosing the mashed carrots to open first. Jess sat down next to Cas but turned to face the highchair and offered her baby a bite of orange mush.

“Ready for the choo-choo?” Jess asked enthusiastically. 

She hoped that by adding some fun flare to the healthy food, Charlie would eat it. But, sadly, it seemed that Charlie was still against the idea of carrots. She grunted and turned her head in defiance, refusing to even open her mouth. Jess sighed in defeat as she looked down at her favorite food in her hands. How could her own child dislike carrots?

“Fine,” Jess huffed, reaching for the banana flavored jar, “You want this, then?”

Charlie smiled and wiggled around in her chair, slapping the tray again.

“Na-na-na-na!” She called.

“The kid loves bananas, doesn’t she?” Papa asked as he brought Jess a plate of pancakes, “Maybe we should start calling her baby monkey.”

Jess smiled at the thought as she fed her hungry baby. The kitchen settled down for a few minutes after that. Papa finished making Dad some pancakes while Dean and Cas talked quietly behind Jessica. Though she tried to focus on feeding her child and staying out of their private conversation, Jess couldn’t help but overhear a few concerning things.

“… He sounded highly upset, Dean. It took everything I had not to fly over and comfort him,” Cas mentioned.

“But you talked to him, right?” Dean asked.

“Yes. I called him again and we spoke over the phone for several minutes,” Cas answered, “But even when the call ended, I could still feel his pain… In fact, I… I can feel it now. Our son is going through a terrible hardship. What should we do?”

Jessica gulped as she watched her baby play in front of her. Jude. Her uncles were talking about Jude. Did something happen? Though she wanted to ask, Jess remained quiet. She didn’t want her uncles to know that she had been listening to their conversation.

“Honestly, I don’t know, babe,” Dean replied gently, “We’ll talk to him about it when he gets here.”

Jess scraped the rest of the baby food onto the spoon in her hands before feeding it to Charlie. The baby was happy to receive it, humming as she ate. Just as Dad and Papa sat at the table to join the rest of the family, a figure appeared in the doorway. Jess looked up to see her husband standing there. Oliver looked extra scruffy this morning. The lower part of his face was covered in a ginger five o’clock shadow – which was kind of sexy, if Jess was being honest. His unicorn pajama pants hung crookedly from his hips, his purple tank top had creases in all directions, and his red hair was even crazier than Charlie’s. His brown eyes were slightly puffy from where he had just woken up and he rubbed them as he stumbled in.

“Whoa. Look what the unicorn coughed up,” Papa called, “How did you roll off the bed this morning, Ollie-pop? From the bottom?” 

Jess and her Dad both smiled at Papa’s joke, but Ollie seemed too tired to come up with a witty retort. Instead, he lowered his arms and glanced around the room.

“Did someone move my toothbrush? I couldn’t find it,” he blurted.

“Oh. Yeah, I meant to tell you,” Papa said sheepishly, turning around to face Oliver with his party hat to the side, “Dickie sort of got a hold if it and… used it in a nonhygienic way. So I threw it out. You’re welcome.”

Oliver took a large breath and closed his eyes. Jess could tell just from the sight of his expression that Ollie seemed to be in an irritated mood. When his brown eyes opened again, they turned to Jessica.

“Jess, can I talk to you for a minute?” Ollie asked, glancing at everyone before adding, “About the party?”

Great. Jess could tell that their conversation would most certainly _not_ be about the party. Though she wanted to stay in the kitchen, Jess took off Charlie’s bib and hoisted her out of the highchair. The baby went along willingly, babbling to herself as she grabbed onto Jess’s shirt again. Upon seeing Ollie, Charlie started a chorus of ‘da-da-da-da’ and reaching out for him. Ollie offered to take her, holding his arms out while Jess shifted the baby into his grasp. Charlie’s tiny hands instantly reached up for his ear and messy orange hair.

“We can talk while I pick out Charlie’s party outfit,” Jess compromised.

When she started down the hall, Oliver followed her with their baby, keeping his voice low as he began to talk.

“Jessica. Babe. Honey,” he began, his tone as light as he could make it, “Listen, I’m not saying this to start an argument, but – ”

“Ollie, when you start a sentence like that, it’s gonna lead to an argument no matter what,” Jess informed as they turned a corner to get to their bedroom.

“Well, I don’t mean to, I really don’t. But I think this is getting out of hand,” he explained.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Oliver reached over to grab their bedroom door and swung it open, revealing their cramped living space and tightly packed items. 

“ _This_ ,” he said, gesturing to the whole of their room, “Look, we can’t keep living here. We’re running out of room –”

Jessica scoffed aloud, momentarily halting her husband’s statement as she entered the room and started for the closet.

“Oliver, this is a Men of Letters bunker. There are rooms everywhere,” she reminded, “Yes, I agree that our room is getting a little cramped, but once Charlie outgrows her crib, she’ll have her own room here. Then we can move some of this stuff with her.”

“Jess, that’s – that’s not what I mean,” Ollie grumbled as he followed her, “We need our own space, where we can keep our own stuff and not have to share with your whole family.”

Jess shook her head again as she looked through Charlie’s small, colorful dresses hanging in the closet.

“Is this _really_ about your toothbrush?” Jessica asked, briefly giving her husband a sad look, “It’s just a toothbrush, Oliver. I’ll get you another one.” 

“No, It’s not just that,” Ollie huffed, “It’s a bunch of other stuff. Like two nights ago, I went to get a snack out of the kitchen, and I walked in on Dean and Cas making out.”

“They make out all the time, Ollie. That’s nothing new,” Jess concluded. 

“Yeah. But they were both wearing cowboy hats. Plus, Cas was sitting on the table with his legs wrapped around Dean. I’m pretty sure they were about to have sex on it,” Ollie said, his face contorted in disgust.

“Well… good for them,” Jess shrugged, “They can have sex wherever they want. It’s their house – ”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Ollie exclaimed loudly, “This is _their_ house. It’s not ours. See, if we had our own place, we wouldn’t have to worry about things like that!”

Jessica turned to fully face her husband and narrow her eyes with a smirk.

“Are you saying you want to have sex with me on the kitchen table?” she asked.

Oliver’s argument briefly got caught in his throat as he eyed her in surprise. He curled Charlie closer in his arms and struggled for words for a second, blinking at his wife with his mouth open, looking like an excited fish. Then he gulped and glanced away with a blush.

“N – no. I mean, not _that_ table. Maybe a different table,” he muttered sheepishly, snapping out of his daze, “The point is, I want us to move out of the bunker. We’ve been here for a year now and I think it’s time for us to get our own place. You said yourself that we would have a house where I could build a big fort in the backyard. Where our kids could play with other kids. Remember that?”

Jessica sighed and forced herself to nod once, staring at the strawberry-blonde baby in her husband’s arms. 

“… yes. I know,” she mumbled.

“Okay… So, let’s go get it,” Ollie breathed, reaching up to gently place a hand on her shoulder, “Jess, I know you love living here. You don’t want to be far from your family, I get it. But we need to think about our own little family… Right, Charlie?”

In response to her dad, Charlie started another string of ‘Da-da-da’s. The adorable sound made smile return to both of her parents’ faces. Jess and Ollie both admired their baby for a moment before looking back to each other. Jess couldn’t deny that everything Oliver said was true. She was going to have to face the fact that they couldn’t live in the bunker forever… but maybe not right away.

“Okay. You’re right. But can we talk about it more after Charlie’s party?” Jess suggested.

Oliver sighed and nodded, sounding relieved.

“Sure,” he agreed, kissing the baby’s forehead before shifting her around and holding her out to Jess, “Here. I’ll let you girls get ready. In the meantime, I’m gonna call mom and ask her if she’ll bring me a new toothbrush on her way over.”

“Wait, I thought you were going out to get the cake? Can’t you just get it then?” Jess asked.

The strangest blush appeared on Ollie’s face as he quickly turned toward the door.

“Uh, n – no. Actually, Jude offered to bring it over yesterday. Isn’t he great?” Ollie called.

Jess’s smile dimmed a bit. The mention of Jude’s name reminded her of the conversation she overheard at the breakfast table. Poor Jude was going through a rough time, but he still offered to help others. He was such a good person.

“Yeah, he is,” Jess agreed, turning to look down at the baby in her arms, “Do you hear that, Charlie? Uncle Ju-ju and uncle Clarey are coming to see you!”

The excited tone that Jess used made a smile float across Charlie’s adorable face. She instantly started to babble ‘Ju-ju-ju-ju’ over and over. Ollie climbed over their unmade bed to grab his cell phone from the nightstand before waving at the girls on his way out. Jess waved back until he was out of sight. Then, she turned to the closet and took a large breath. The mere thought of leaving the bunker made her skin crawl. But she didn’t have to think about that at the moment. Right now, all she had to think about was dolling up her firstborn child.

“So, which dress do you like, Charlie?” Jess asked, gesturing toward the massive wardrobe.

It seemed like Charlie was too concerned with playing with Jess’s hair to even look toward the dresses. It wasn’t until Jess pulled one out and held it up that Charlie seemed interested. She reached her tiny fingers toward the red ruffles of the tutu, cooing in awe.

“Yeah. You’re right. Red is your color,” Jess hummed to the baby, “Come on, honey. Let’s get you ready for your big day.”

* * *

Though he was tasked with assisting Gabriel in decorating the bunker library for the im ending celebration, Castiel found himself incapable of focusing. As cheery and colorful as the balloons were, his heart ached with pain; the celestial echoes of his only child’s grief. How could he engage in a delightful festivity for another child when his own was so very distraught? Castiel wasn’t sure which was worse; the fact that his son was in so much agony or knowing that he couldn’t provide proper aid to ease Jude’s suffering. 

“Hello? Earth to Cassie. Come in, Cassie!”

Castiel raised his head at the sound of his own name to see Gabriel reaching his hand out. Cas blinked a few times before handing a balloon to his brother, who automatically attached it to the end of a tall bookshelf. 

“Dude, you look like an alien who lost his spaceship. Are you okay?” the archangel asked.

“No,” Castiel admitted with a sigh.

“Well, get happy, man!” Gabriel forcefully instructed in a cheery tone, “You’re gonna eat cake in a little bit. How can you be so moody? Lighten up.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth. He was preparing to go on an emotional rant, explaining how his only child was going through a very difficult time, and that while he was grateful for Charlie having her first birthday, it wasn’t his main concern, and that Gabriel needed to be more respectful toward other people and their feelings… but the sensation of a soft hand grabbing his own caused the angel to hold his breath. Cas turned to see the bright emerald eyes of his husband staring back at him, flickering across the whole of his face. Though neither of them had spoken to each other yet, Dean seemed to know every precise word Castiel planned to say. The man bobbed his head only once, showing that he acknowledged and agreed with the angel’s outrage, but then gently spread his pursed lips.

“Let it go, babe,” he nearly whispered.

Though it took great effort, Castiel swallowed the speech he had been holding in the back of his mouth. It tasted of bitterness and resentment, but he felt better after doing it. Luckily, Gabriel moved on to decorate another part of the room, leaving the two husbands standing briefly by themselves. Castiel tightened his hand around Dean’s, using it as a grounding point as they looked to each other.

“I don’t know if our son will be able to withstand Gabriel’s nauseating merriment today,” Cas admitted.

Dean chuckled a bit, the lovely sound unwinding some of the knots in Castiel’s stomach.

“Nauseating merriment. That’s the best damn description of Gabe I’ve ever heard,” Dean replied, giving the angel’s hand a squeeze, “It’ll be alright, Cas. You never know. This party might take Jude’s mind off things and help him feel better.”

Castiel nodded but was unable to agree with his husband. Jude’s anguish was stemming from somewhere deep within his soul. It was linked to something personal; an ache so great that it controlled his entire heart…

“Dean, I… I think it might be because of what happened a few months ago,” Castiel relayed under his breath.

Cas didn’t need to explain himself. Dean knew exactly what he was referring to. Jude and Clarence’s false pregnancy had devastated the entire family, but especially Jude in particular. Castiel, Dean, and Clarence were able to comfort him enough to get him back to a functional state. But his anguish seemed to be returning gradually. 

“I know it is,” Dean replied, leaning even closer, “and I want to help him too, Cas. But for today, let’s not bring up what happened, you know? We probably shouldn’t mention babies too much –”

“ _Ah! My baby girl!_ ”

Castiel and Dean both spun to look toward the entrance of the study, where Jane Thompson dashed in wearing a lovely pink dress and large grin. She tossed down the gift bags she was holding and went straight to Oliver, scooping Charlie out of his arms to give her tiny face multiple kisses. The exuberant affection caused Charlie to fill the room with adorable, high-pitched giggles. Watching the embrace made Castiel feel warm inside, but also a bit disheartened.

“That will be difficult to do, Dean. Seeing as this party is for a baby,” Castiel bluntly pointed out.

“Y – yeah,” Dean huffed with disappointment, “But we’ve gotta try.”

The couple continued to stand by the bookshelf for several minutes, simply holding hands and observing the other people in the room. Gabriel, Sam, and Oliver carried food from the kitchen to the tables in the study while Jane and Jessica played quietly with Charlie. Soon enough, Castiel sensed his child approaching the bunker.

“He’s here, Dean,” Castiel informed.

Instead of walking to the garage, Castiel flew himself and his husband to the room. The short flight must have taken Dean by surprise because he audibly gasped once they were there. As the garage door opened to reveal Jude’s blue Impala pulling in, Dean huffed in annoyance.

“Really, Cas? We could have walked,” he muttered.

Castiel patiently watched the car roll in and pull up along side Dean’s black Impala. Once the vehicle was in its regular position, the engine shut off and Jude and Clare stepped out. Clare, being the closest to Dean and Cas, smiled widely and opened his arms, expecting an embrace. But Castiel breezed past the demon to wrap both of his arms around his son, comforting him with a large hug. 

“Well. It’s nice to see you too, Cas,” Clarence mentioned behind him.

The demon was obviously perturbed about being ignored, but Castiel couldn’t help it. His child needed him. After giving Jude an extensive hug, Castiel took a step back to hold Jude’s lovely head in his hands. Jude was old enough to have a light dusting of facial hair across the bottom of his face, but luckily, it had no effect on the beauty of his freckles. They were faintly dotted all along the bridge of his nose, cheekbones, and forehead, surrounding his sapphire eyes with a wide spectrum of constellations. His dark oak hair still jutted upward like his father’s, and the shy, tender smile that played on his lips was an undeniable Winchester inheritance. Though it had only been four days since he last saw Jude, Castiel couldn’t help but feel like he was looking at him for the first time all over again.

“Hello, son,” the angel smiled.

“Hey, Pop,” Jude replied.

“How are you?” Castiel asked, “What do you need? Can I get you anything?”

“No. I’m better today,” Jude answered with a nod.

Castiel wished to accept his son’s reply, but it was obvious that he was lying. Perhaps Jude was trying to put on a brave face for his family, like his father had always done.

“I’m fine too, in case anyone was wondering,” Clarence added.

“That’s good,” Dean replied, following the demon as he led the way back over to the blue Impala, “Did you guys have a nice anniversary? Do anything fun?”

“You really want to hear about that?” Clare asked, sounding mischievous, “I can go into full detail if you want – ”

“Hell no,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head in disgust, “I was just being polite. Geez… Hand me that cake. I’ll carry it to the study for you.”

Though Castiel wanted to remain in the embrace he shared with his child, he slowly released Jude so that they could all migrate to the study. With gifts and cake in hand, all four Winchesters made their way from the garage to the library with Dean at the front. Castiel remained to the back of the group to keep an eye on Jude. His movements were slower than normal; a sign that he wasn’t feeling quite like himself. But Castiel didn’t need to see the evidence to know it was true, because he could feel Jude’s pain in the depths of his own grace.

Even when they made it to the study, Jude remained far back. He stood almost directly next to Castiel as the two of them watched the rest of the family interact. Dean took the cake to the table while Clare greeted Jessica and Oliver.

“Hey, Clare!” Jessica called, twisting her infant around to her hip and pointing toward the demon, “Look, Charlie, it’s uncle Clarey!”

“C.J.!” Clare beamed, holding both arms out, “Wow, look at that outfit, girl. You are killin’ that tutu. C’mere!”

In a large burst of excitement, Charlie all but launched herself at Clarence. Clare caught the baby and bounced her up and down in the air a few times, causing her to giggle shrilly and flail her limbs with delight. Despite the loving welcome of the family and Clare’s playful embrace with Charlie, Castiel noticed that Jude was ever so slightly inching backward. A smile – or perhaps it was merely a mask of pleasantness – was on his face, but his eyes were on the floor. It was obvious that the sight of Clarence holding a child hurt him even more. Castiel was about to attempt reaching over and offering Jude an affectionate gesture when Clarence walked close with the baby.

“Hey, uncle Ju-ju,” the demon called fondly, “Wanna hold C.J.?”

Jude instantly waved his hands in a dismissive way, trying to politely refuse Clare’s offer. But Clarence thrust the infant into Jude’s arms, forcing him to take the child. Jude quickly adjusted his arms, circling them around the baby and looking down at her. The smile never left Charlie’s chubby face. She started to say ‘ju-ju-ju’ in slurs as she reached up to touch Jude’s face with her extremely small hands.

“H – hi, Charlie,” Jude mumbled.

The baby continued to babble incoherently as Jessica walked up to the small group. Her sight seemed to linger on Jude and underlying worry tinted her expression.

“Hey, Jude. Thank you for picking up the cake for us,” she said, tone housing genuine gratitude.

“Eh, it was no problem,” Jude replied bashfully, “Clare did… most of the work.”

While the adults spoke, Charlie rested her large head to Jude’s chest. The small action appeared to affect Jude, as he paused in midsentence to glance down at the infant in his arms. Castiel couldn’t help but notice how peaceful Jude was in that brief moment; cradling a small child to his chest, resting the edge of his chin to her head so that he could smell her hair, purposefully closing his eyes as if he was savoring the whole event. Holding Charlie gave Jude the contentment he had been searching for. He craved to care for a child. Clarence’s child. Castiel knew it. He could see it in his son’s blue eyes… But there was nothing Cas could do except stand by idly. And the notion tortured him on the inside.

“So, Clare, are your folks coming? We sent them an invitation, right Jess?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah,” Jessica answered, “Uncle Bobby said he would try to make it.”

“Oh, I just called them in the car. They’re on their way,” Clarence confirmed with a sage nod, “They’re bringing mom, too. I hope that’s okay.”

“Hey. The more the merrier,” Oliver concluded with a shrug.

“Oi, where is mi Camote?” Jane called, sneaking her way between Clare and Oliver.

Charlie’s head soon rose from Jude’s chest and turned to look behind her. Jane’s nickname for the infant – which Castiel found odd, as it was the name of some type of vegetable – was highly effective. Charlie instantly raised her short arms for Jane, wanting to be taken. Despite his obvious yearning to keep her, Jude carefully held the baby out to Jane, who gingerly took her into her arms. After taking Charlie, Jane stepped over to give Jude a hug with her free arm.

“Hola, Jude! How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Jane mused.

“Hi, Ms. Jane. I’m fine,” Jude assured, though it was the farthest thing from the truth.

“That’s wonderful, honey. And hola, Clare. You always have such nice clothing,” Jane complimented, reaching over to tug once on Clarence’s shirt, “Who is in charge of dressing you?”

“Ah, that’d be Rowena. She’s bought almost everything I own,” Clarence admitted.

“Oh, that woman has such good taste,” Jane nodded. 

While the others continued to chat about mundane topics, Castiel noticed Dean and Sam walking out of the room. The Winchester brothers were side-by-side, striding quickly into the control room of the bunker and to the metal staircase beyond. Castiel found their departure strange. Where were they going? Was there something outside that they needed to retrieve?

“Jay, are you feeling alright? Sure you can do this?”

Castiel heard Clarence’s whisper behind him and automatically centered his attention on the subtle conversation, even though it was meant to be private. Jude’s reply was surprisingly upbeat; something that Cas did not expect.

“Yeah. I mean, look how cute Charlie is. How could anyone be upset around her?” Jude answered his husband.

Castiel felt his own lips form a small smile. He was exceedingly grateful to hear his son speak with optimism. Perhaps Dean was right. This party seemed to be helping Jude feel better already.

“Uh, hey, guys.”

Everyone in the study turned to look at Sam in the doorway. Dean wasn’t far behind. He casually strode up to stand next to his brother, but his green eyes found Castiel’s in the crowd. And by their stare alone, Castiel could tell that something was about to happen.

“Look who came all the way from Minnesota to join the party,” Sam announced.

The tallest brother turned to the side to reveal Adam Milligan standing behind him. The youngest Winchester brother smiled and waved as the crowd in the study filled with gasps and excited greetings. Jessica, Gabriel, and Jane hurried over to meet him in the doorway and offer hugs. Everyone else simply chorused their hellos. Castiel was caught off guard by Adam’s appearance, but quickly offered a polite smile and wave when the young man looked toward him.

“It’s so good to see you! I didn’t think you could make it,” Jessica voiced her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I didn’t either, but I was able to rearrange the schedule at work. Plus, I didn’t want to miss the chance to see this little cutie again. Hey there, Charlie,” Adam said as he reached out to tickle the infant’s stomach.

“Did ol’ Mikey come with you or did he have some lame excuse to stay home?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Adam said, gesturing behind him before turning back with the largest grin Castiel had ever seen, “And, uh, there’s someone else we want you all to meet…”

Cas tilted his head. Someone else? Did Michael and Adam bring a stranger into the Winchester’s household? The bunker was supposed to be a private place. Before Castiel could become too territorial, however, Michael came around the corner carrying a large black object. It wasn’t until the archangel stopped over the threshold and slowly spun the item around that Castiel realized – it was a baby carrier. And tucked neatly and warmly among pink blankets was a tiny newborn. 

Castiel’s mouth fell open as he glanced between his oldest brother and the child he was carrying. Was that – Adam and Michael’s child? Did they conceive a baby together without anyone knowing? But Michael was the oldest and most powerful archangel in the universe. How could he deliver a child on his own without telling anyone?! Cas’s stare shot to Dean, who seemed equally confused and shocked.

“Is – is that – ?!” 

“Our daughter,” Michael answered, staring down softly at the sleeping child, “We named her Katherine, after Adam’s mother.”

There were a few ‘aw’s and mumblings of congratulations as family members began to walk up and greet the newborn. But the first sound that Castiel heard was the airy wisp of wings behind him. He turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of Jude disappearing into thin air. As Castiel and Clarence stared at the vacant spot between them, the distant sound of a door slamming shut echoed from a far part of the bunker. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was probably a lot to take in, huh? I’ll give you a second to think about it… … There. We good? Yeah? Okay. XD So, Michael and Adam have a daughter! Crazy, right? I know you probably have a lot of questions about her, but don’t worry, we’ll be coming back to it in the next chapter. ;) How about that Charlie, though? Isn’t she the cutest thing ever? XD While I don’t have children, I have family members that do. When my cousins come to visit, I get to hang out with their one-year-old little girl, (her name is Paislee,) and lots of Charlie’s personality comes from her. Lol ;D Also, “Camote” translates to ‘sweet potato’ in Spanish. (Thank you so much for that translation, _bookworm4ever81_!) It might be a little weird, but Ollie is Calabaza (pumpkin), and I thought it seemed appropriate. XD Hopefully there was enough fluff in this chapter to counteract the angst from the first. And I promise that more fluff is on the way for our family. ;) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I feel extremely blessed to have each of you in my life, and you have no idea how much I’ve missed you. *hugs* The next chapter will be out soon! :)
> 
> Oh! And for those of you here on AO3, I wanted to let you know, if you’re ever in need of more Judence, TongueTiedMisfit has written some amazing Judence stuff! It’s fluffy, funny, sweet, and a touch on the smutty side. In other words, you’ll love it as much as I did! XD Thanks again for sharing that with us, darlin! <3


	3. Chapter 3

Jude barely caught a single glimpse of his new cousin before fleeing the study. His grace, acting on impulse, took him to the safety of his old bedroom just a few hallways down. Upon realizing where he was, Jude immediately raced over to slam the door shut and lock it, sealing himself inside. He didn’t want anyone to see him burst into tears – which is exactly what happened. A high, throaty sob squeaked out of his mouth, accompanied by two streams of hot liquid flowing down each side of his face. For a second, he stood there with one trembling hand on the door and the other shaking by his side.

It wasn’t fair. Papa, Gabe, Jessica, Michael – every single angel in the family could have a child, except for Jude. Why? What made him so different than everyone else? Why did he have to suffer while the rest of the people in his life were blessed? All Jude wanted was to have a child with his husband! They tried over and over again for an entire year with no results; Nothing to show for it but a false pregnancy and an empty, half-decorated nursery. But Michael and Adam were able to waltz in with a brand-new baby girl? A baby that was probably conceived by accident or coincidence? _That wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair at all!_

With a rageful grunt, Jude turned away from the door to grab the nearest object and throw it. He didn’t even see what it was, he just heard the crash of it hit against the wall and it filled him with a small amount of relief. He grabbed and slung two more things off the bookshelf before his hand found something soft. His fingers gripped it tight, preparing to throw it, but he paused upon seeing the yellow and black fuzz through his blurry sight. It was Bumble Bee. Jude’s favorite childhood toy. He couldn’t hurt Bumble Bee no matter how angry he was. In fact, the more he stared at the worn plushie bee, the more sadness overshadowed his anger. Jude stumbled backward until his legs bumped against his bed and he fell to sit on it, cradling the bee close and blinking through waves of tears. He wasn’t mad at Michael, Adam, or their daughter. He was happy for them. But he was also extremely, sorrowfully, pitifully consumed with envy…

A gust of air swept through the room and Papa appeared near the door. Jude barely had time to look up and see him before he came over to sit on the bed next to Jude with extended arms. Jude whimpered aloud before leaning over to fall into his Papa’s embrace. Papa’s long trench coat sleeves wrapped snuggly around him, just like they did in his youth. The warmth and sweet smell of Papa’s body was able to comfort Jude like nothing else could. Still clutching Bumble Bee, Jude cried onto his Papa’s shoulder.

“I’m so h – happy for them,” Jude croaked.

“I know,” Papa replied.

“I’m n – not mad at them, Pop.”

“I know.”

“I just w – want a baby, too.”

“I know, son. It’s alright.”

Jude continued to whimper like a kid while Papa held him and stroked his hair. Jude was partially embarrassed because he knew grown men weren’t supposed to act childish. But his heart was so broken that he couldn’t help it. Papa had always been his source of comfort growing up; something he needed now more than ever.

There was a knock on the door, as Jude knew there would be eventually. Jude and his Papa both raised their heads to look toward the door, though neither of them got up.

“Jay?” Clare’s worried voice called from the other side, “Are you in there?”

Papa turned back to Jude with questioning, nonverbally asking if it was okay to let Clare in. Of course, Jude nodded. While Pop unlocked the door with his grace, Jude put Bumble Bee down and began to wipe the wetness from his cheeks. He didn’t want to worry his husband any more than he already had. When the door opened, Clarence instantly dashed inside, followed calmly by Jude’s Dad, who came in and shut the door behind them.

Despite Jude’s efforts to appear happier, Clare was still worried. The blonde demon rushed over to sit on the other side of Jude and firmly took his hand. Clare leaned over to give Jude’s moist cheek a long kiss, too; resting his head to Jude’s afterward, like one cat cuddling another. The husbands didn’t need to say anything to communicate how they were feeling. Clare knew exactly what kind of pain Jude was in, because he was probably feeling a variation of it too. While Jude and Clare held hands and leaned against each other, Papa held Jude’s back and looked to Dad.

“Dean, did you know about Michael and Adam’s child?” he asked softly.

“I found out about it five minutes before you did, Cas,” Dad answered, walking over to stand in front of the bed full of people with his arms crossed, “Hell, I didn’t even know they were coming to the party. They just showed up at the door with the baby. I figured you would have known something about it.”

“Me?” Papa repeated.

“Yeah. I mean, aren’t angels able to sense when nephilims come into being or whatever?” Dad asked.

“Well… Gabriel and I did discuss a brief sensation a few months ago,” Pop admitted, “But it was indistinguishable from minor disturbances on the angel radar. It could have been anything. I never dreamed it could possibly be Michael having a child –”

“So he _did_ have the baby? She’s not adopted?” Dad prompted.

Papa was quiet for a moment, mouth open but silent. Then, he simply shook his head and shrugged.

“I don’t know for sure, Dean. It’s something we’ll need to ask,” he concluded.

Jude’s bedroom was momentarily quiet again. The Batman nightlight in the corner – which was always on whether Jude was there or not – bathed the walls and occupants in a soft yellow glow. Jude continued to rest his chin on Clare’s shoulder until he felt a new hand on his knee. At the gesture, Jude dragged his heavy head up to see his Dad kneeling on the floor in front of him. Dad had that look on his face, a stoic mask of understanding that hid concern. It was an expression he wore a lot throughout Jude’s teenage years.

“You alright, little man?” he asked.

Jude gulped and shook his head, tightening his hand around Clare’s.

“No,” Jude answered.

“Then let’s talk about it,” Dad suggested.

Jude tore his sight away from his father’s green eyes to look back at his husband. He wanted to make sure Clare was okay with discussing their personal issue with others before blurting it out. Luckily, Clare seemed completely fine with it. He nodded once and pecked a kiss to Jude’s shoulder, showing his agreement. With his husband’s blessing, Jude turned back to his parents.

“We’ve been trying and trying… but we can’t have a baby,” Jude explained, barely above a whisper.

Dad nodded, but it seemed like he already knew what Jude was going to say. Papa didn’t seem surprised by the news, either. It was almost like they were waiting for Jude to say it. With his arm still wrapped around Jude’s back, Papa tilted his head a bit.

“Are the two of you performing intercourse correctly?” he asked bluntly, “In order to conceive a child, the semen must first enter –”

“ _Yes_ , we do it correctly,” Clarence loudly interrupted. 

“Alright,” Papa gulped, his blue eyes flickering nervously between Jude and Clare, “It’s just, the conception of a Nephilim is different from that of a human. Especially when the parents are both male.”

“We know, Pop,” Jude replied, “I do the whole grace thing. We do everything we’re supposed to. It just doesn’t work.”

“Something will work,” Dad stated boldly, “We’ve just gotta figure out what it is.”

“ _We_?” Clare repeated, sounding on the verge of laughter.

Before Dad could expand on his statement, another knock came from Jude’s bedroom door. All four men looked to the entrance of the room to see the door opening without their consent. Jude expected Jess, Ollie, or one of his uncles to come in – but it was Clare’s mother. Meg, sporting her usual black leather jacket, dark clothes, and thick boots, slid casually into Jude’s room to glance among all the faces staring back at her. Jude was honestly surprised to see the lady so soon. When did she get to the bunker? And how did she know that Clare, Jude, and his parents were all in Jude’s room? The female demon closed the door at her back and raised her eyebrows.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Oh, hey. Sure. Come on in. Thanks for asking,” Dean grumbled sarcastically, “How did you know we were in here?”

Before answering the question, Meg stepped further in and gestured briefly toward Clarence.

“Saw you and the kid running this way,” she muttered, looking to Clare and nodding her head upward with a small smirk, “Hey, kid.”

“Hey,” Clare smiled back, “Crowley and Rowena didn’t give you any shit, did they?”

“No more than usual,” Meg said as she noticed Jude’s wet face, “What’s going on?”

“We are sort of in the middle of a private discussion, Meg,” Papa politely explained.

Meg stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and lowered her head a little as she glanced between Jude and Clare from the far wall.

“Oh… Should I go, then?” she asked.

“No,” Jude blurted, “You can stay.”

At this point, Jude was willing to share his pain with everyone, including his mother-in-law. Meg seemed slightly flattered by Jude’s approval of her presence. She flashed him a warm look and raised her head again.

“Alright. So, what’s eating you guys? I thought this was supposed to be a party,” she prompted.

“It is a party. But…” Clare’s statement trailed off for a second and he filled the silence with a sigh before continuing, “Jay and I have been trying to have a baby. We’ve tried everything, but it’s not working.”

“We’re attempting to find a solution for them,” Papa added.

Meg’s cheeks blushed slightly as she stifled a nervous cough.

“Oh. Angel-baby making. Well, that’s, uh… not exactly my area of expertise,” she admitted bashfully.

“No,” Dad agreed, slowly rising to his feet with a weary expression as he planted his hands on his hips, “but you might be able to catch something we’ve missed. In fact, I think we’ll need to bring the whole cavalry in on this one, guys.”

Clare’s chestnut eyes narrowed toward Dad, housing suspicion.

“Meaning…?” he prompted.

Dad exhaled and fixed his eyes solely on Jude. There was a sense of hope there, but also discomfort and a touch of dread.

“I think we’re gonna have to do something that none of us want to do,” he muttered begrudgingly, “… We need to have a sex talk with the whole family.”

Clare immediately groaned and shook his head, seeming annoyed more than anything. Papa’s whole face turned bright red, enhancing the sapphire in his large eyes by contrast. But Jude could feel his own hope being restored. Dad was right. The rest of the family would be able to give him advice; offer him the knowledge necessary to conceive a child with Clare. Next to Dad, Meg seemed even more excited. The lady hummed a few chuckles to herself, finding humor in the idea.

“A sex talk with the Winchesters?” she giggled, “Sign me up.”

* * *

Clare barely let go of Jude’s hand for the rest of the evening.

He held the angel’s soft fingers as firmly as possible as he led the way back out of Jude’s room and down the hall to the study. By the time they made it there, Bobby, Crowley, and Rowena were all mixed in with the rest of the family, sharing greetings and swooning over the babies. Clare noticed that Meg stayed directly behind him as they entered, most likely using him as a shield against Crowley’s stern glances.

When Meg came out of rehab three months after she entered it, Clare and his mother had a long talk about what she should do next. Though it took some finagling and lots of sweet talk, Clare was eventually able to convince Crowley to let Meg work for him again. The king of Hell agreed to it under a few conditions, one being that Meg couldn’t go anywhere near drugs again. Another was that she had to do everything he told her to. Clare made Crowley promise that he wouldn’t make her do anything crazy, of course. Just the run-of-the-mill demon stuff; soul deals and trades and the like. Clare worried that letting Crowley keep Meg on a leash would turn into a bad thing. But so far, Crowley had kept his word. He oversaw most of Meg’s day-to-day activities, helped her keep herself in line, and finally – _finally_ – gave her enough space to be one of Clare’s parents. Though, apparently, his ‘all-powerful ruler’ complex must have been hard to shake, because he continued to watch over her like a hawk even at family gatherings.

Clare and Jude remained side-by-side through Charlie’s entire birthday party; through the gifts, the cake, the conversations and, of course, Jude’s first meeting with his cousin Katherine. Luckily, the newborn was still asleep by the time they came around to her, so there wasn’t an option to hold her. Clare was sure that if Jude was given the chance to hold a newborn – something he wanted so much, but belonged to someone else – his poor heart would crumble beyond Clare’s ability to repair it. Katherine, or ‘Baby Kate’ as Gabriel called her, bore a striking resemblance to Adam. She had his brown hair, the same shape of his nose, and a few other features. But Clare was still skeptical about her being biologically related to Michael and Adam. Like Cas said, that blip on the angel radar could have been anything… right?

After watching Charlie eat her smash cake – which amused Clare to no end and made him excited for the day he would get to watch his own kids get covered in cake – Jess cleaned up the baby and put her to sleep. It was about that time that Dean asked the family to all sit down in the study so they could talk. As everyone gathered around to take their seats, Clare noticed Jude’s handsome freckled face steadily growing more and more red. By the time Dean and Cas stood up to address the crowd, Jude nestled his scarlet face into the side of Clare’s shoulder, hiding it from all the staring eyes. Clare sat up a little straighter, giving his nervous husband more room to hide.

“Alright, guys. There’s something serious we want to talk to you all about,” Dean began, pointing toward the boys near him, “Jude and Clare have been trying to have a baby.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Jane called sweetly.

“But it’s not working,” Cas added.

Jane’s smile vanished and she glanced toward the couple with a forlorn expression. Clare resisted the urge to grimace. If there was one thing he hated, it was receiving pity from others. Clare didn’t need anyone’s pity. Still, he knew that Oliver’s mom had the best intentions and he was grateful for her support.

“So, we thought we could go around the room and share some stories about… you know… How some of us had our kids. But nothing too graphic, alright? This isn't a contest."

“Ah, bummer,” Gabriel groaned, nudging his tall husband next to him, “We could have won that one, Sammy.”

Sam only rolled his eyes.

“We do not need details about the intercourse. We only wish to know how our nephilims came into being. For instance, I will share Dean’s and my story,” Cas offered, flashing a brief glance toward the angel at Clare’s side, “Jude was created at night. Outdoors, on a hillside – ”

“Try not to break into song, angel,” Crowley huffed, “Those of us here in the audience don’t have sick bags.”

“Just listen,” Cas boldly instructed, giving Crowley a hard look, “We did not try to conceive Jude. He simply came into creation by chance. Dean requested to see my wings, I brought my grace forth, and when the intercourse was over, a fetus began to take shape in my grace, one multiplying cell at a time. Jude immerged into the universe through the physical expression of our love. He came quietly and peacefully to fill our lives with joy. He was… a miracle.”

“That’s right,” Dean added, glancing at Jude before looking at the ground, “Cas let some of his grace out during the hot stuff, and when it was over, bam. There Jude was.”

“That’s all?” Meg muttered quietly, “One time with the angel lights on and you were knocked up?”

Cas nodded to answer Mom’s question. Although the idea of Dean and Cas having sex was unnerving, Clare enjoyed hearing about Jude’s creation. Jay’s parents were right. Jude _was_ a miracle… Clare turned his head to peck a kiss to his husband’s warm forehead, feeling so grateful to have him in his life.

“Pffft. Lucky you,” Gabriel grumbled from across the room, “Some of us had to work for it.”

“Which is exactly why we are asking to hear your stories,” Cas replied, “Brother, please tell us of how you and Sam conceived Jessica.” 

Gabriel looked smugger in that moment than Clare had ever seen him. He sat up straighter and crossed his legs, looking like a teenage girl about to spill the tea. Next to him, Sam groaned and tossed his head of hair into his hands, bracing both of his elbows on his knees like a man defeated.

“Do we have to?” Sam’s muffled voice sounded weary as hell.

“Of course we do, moose! The world depends on it,” Gabe snapped before smiling back at the crowd, “Alright folks, Picture it: Sicily, 1922 –”

“Wait a minute, isn’t that from The Golden Girls?” Oliver asked from the back.

“Hush up, kiddo. The adults are talking,” Gabe called before clearing his throat, “So there we were, me and my large moose, in a farmhouse waaay out in the country – ”

“A farmhouse?” Bobby asked.

“Stop interrupting! I’m getting to the good part,” the blonde archangel complained, “Once we were alone, we took off our clothes and got naked, as long-term boyfriends do. And let me tell ya, Sam is a sight to see when he’s naked. If Sammy was a firefighter, he’d have the longest hose in the firehouse, if you know what I mean –”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to ask,” Dean hissed to Cas.

“Papa, please stop talking about Dad being naked,” Jess called.

“But there’s no other way to explain his astounding size!” Gabe argued.

“Alright, you know what? _I’ll_ tell them,” Sam interrupted, standing up from his seat to face the crowd with a deep blush, “Look. It took Gabe and I a few times to make Jess, because Gabe’s grace kept burning me.”

Jude’s head immediately raised up from Clare’s shoulder to look across the room and Clare joined him in staring at Sam in surprise. Holy shit, Clare had no idea that Gabriel had burn Sam with his grace. How did that happen? Was he permanently damaged? Jude’s grace had never hurt Clare. Quite the opposite, it always made him feel good. But was it possible that if could be deadly, too? Jude’s hand tightened anxiously around Clare’s.

“It _burned_ you?” Jane repeated.

“Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose,” Gabe defended, raising up to stand next to Sam. His voice wasn’t playful anymore. It was low and serious when he continued. “I knew I had to come out of my vessel to catch his man juice, but every time I tried, I accidently burned him. My grace is as powerful as the sun, okay? It takes a lot of effort to hold it back.”

“So, how did you get pregnant?” Oliver asked.

Gabriel took a second to look up at Sam with a small smile. It was a private look; one that probably housed an inside joke or something.

“This beanpole figured it out,” Gabe answered, nudging Sam a bit.

“I told him to come out of his vessel _after_ we did it,” Sam explained further, “His grace completely destroyed the farmhouse, but it worked. Jess was made.”

The couple looked across the room to their blonde daughter, who smiled shyly as she held her own sleeping baby. Clare enjoyed hearing the story, but he was kind of let down. He and Jude had already tried that tactic and it didn’t seem to work. Jude’s parents turned toward them with hopefulness, but Jude shook his head in disappointment. Castiel sighed woefully before turning completely around to face Jessica and Oliver. The pair were sitting at a table in the study with Charlie sleeping peacefully in Jess’s arms.

“Jessica,” Cas said, “I assume that Charlie was a surprise?”

“Yeah,” the blonde angel answered, looking down at the baby in her arms, “A sweet surprise.”

“Total surprise,” Oliver added, “Jess just did the yellow grace thing and – yeah. Pretty much what happened to you and Dean, it sounds like.”

Cas huffed again and finally turned his attention to the left side of the room, where Michael and Adam were sitting patiently and quietly together. The baby carrier containing their newborn was sitting on the table between them as Michael gently rocked it back and forth. Michael seemed to know that Cas was going to ask how the baby came into being, because he started talking as soon as Cas looked to him.

“Katherine’s conception was meticulously planned,” the archangel admitted.

“We heard the stories about how you guys made your kids, so we decided to give it a try ourselves,” Adam added.

“Being an archangel, I decided to follow Gabriel’s method,” Michael went on, “Adam and I performed intercourse as normal, then I traveled to a secluded location and brought my grace forth.”

“And it worked? I mean, obviously it worked,” Gabriel said, gesturing to the baby, “but I mean… How?”

“The same way it happened with you, brother,” Michael smiled, “My grace selected the strongest sperm cell and merged with it. Thus, our child was conceived.”

“And how did you deliver her?” Cas blurted, sounding extremely curious.

Michael’s smile dimmed, as if the memory haunted him a bit.

“… Alone. Just as you delivered Jude,” he finally answered, “I knew that Adam could not be present when I opened my grace, so I once again traveled to a far-off location –”

“I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” Adam interrupted, glancing sideways at the archangel.

“You could have come _here_ ,” Gabriel said, gesturing toward the enormity of the bunker and all the people in it, “We could have helped you, man!”

“No. It was something I needed to do alone,” Michael denied, his gray eyes on the table, “My grace is not like yours, Gabriel. It’s far more deadly. It was a delicate operation –”

“All the more reason to get help,” Dean pointed out.

“Did you hear what I said?” Michael asked, finally looking back up, “My grace is _deadly_. It’s _lethal_. It was created from the necessity to burn out darkness itself. If I were to expose it in such a cramped, crowded environment, the devastation would be catastrophic. My grace was made to end life, not create it. The act of carrying a child to full term inside of it went against its very nature...”

Clare could hear Jude’s breathing picking up beside him. Jude’s hand was beginning to quiver inside Clare’s, too. Michael’s words were having a profound effect on Clare’s husband. The dark-haired archangel raised his hand to place it on the edge of the baby carrier, where the infant inside slept peacefully.

“And that makes my daughter a miracle, too,” he concluded, finally regaining his smile, “I doubt I will ever carry another child. I don’t need to. She and Adam are all that I will ever need… Along with you all, of course,” he quickly added, his eyes carefully falling back to focus on the freckle-faced angel at Clare’s side, “Jude, I can understand why you are having difficulty conceiving a child. Your grace rivals even my own in terms of potency and power. I fear it will take nothing short of a miracle for you as well.”

The room was eerily silent after Michael’s little speech, filled with saddened faces. But, frankly, Clare was pissed. How dare that archangel sit there, next to his own newborn child, and tell Jude that he might never have one! Michael didn’t know what Jude could or couldn’t do! Jude could do anything! Clare was prepared to stand up and yell all of this at the archangel when Crowley began to talk.

“Fascinating,” the king of hell hummed from Bobby’s side, wearing his classic smug expression, “You sound so sure of yourself, archangel. But I must disagree with you about – well, everything you just said, really.”

Michael narrowed his eyes toward Crowley, seeming offended.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“You’re excused,” Crowley pompously allowed, gracefully raising to his feet to face the rest of the room, “Every single one of you has overlooked a very crucial detail in this dilemma. All of these nephilim were made from human and angel pairings. No matter how deadly it is, humans can withstand a certain amount of celestial grace. But it’s far, far more dangerous to demons…”

Clare could feel his heartbeat picking up speed when Crowley turned to face him. The king’s eyes were tinted with regret when he spoke again.

“It’s no wonder why the two of you haven’t conceived a child yet, Clarence. Angelic grace was crafted to destroy all creatures of darkness, especially demons. It’s likely your seed is obliviated the second it enters Jude’s body,” Crowley theorized.

Clare suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. All this time, he and Jude both thought there was something wrong with Jude’s powerful grace. But no, it had been _Clare’s_ fault all along. Because he was half demon. Jude’s hand suddenly felt a hundred times heavier inside his own. All Jude wanted was a baby. Not being able to have one was nearly driving him into depression, and it was all Clare’s fault. Clare couldn’t give his husband the one thing he wanted most.

“S – so it’s me,” Clare exhaled, feeling tears press at the back of his eyes, “It’s my fault…”

Rowena popped up from her seat and glided around Jane to sit on Clare’s vacant side and wrap him into a sideways hug.

“No, sweet lamb, it’s nobody’s fault,” she cooed.

“It’s a puzzle we’ve got to figure out, Clare. Just like I said earlier,” Dean assured.

Even though everybody was trying to soothe him, Clare still felt like shit. He couldn’t even bring himself to look Jude in the eye. How could he? Clare couldn’t give the poor kid what he wanted even if he tried.

“So,” Gabe huffed, “Jude’s grace is just as powerful as Michael’s –”

“More powerful,” Michael corrected.

Gabriel looked back at his brother in surprise, gulped, and revised his statement.

“M – more powerful,” the blonde archangel murmured, “and we have to figure out a way to get a demon’s seed to take root in it without getting destroyed? Sounds pretty impossible…”

“To simple minds like yours, it does,” Crowley scoffed, turning to look at Clare with a wide grin, “I, however, have already thought of a solution.”

“’Course you did,” Bobby said, giving the demon a flat look, “And what kind of crazy plot did you come up with this time?”

Crowley raised his head proudly and slid his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, posing arrogantly near a bookshelf.

“There is a potion I used to sell to some of my rarer clients,” he explained, “Fairly easy to brew. It can temporarily transform any being or creature into a pure human for twenty-four hours. Mother and I can brew it for the boy, then he and Jude can try again.”

Every eye on the room came to rest on the couple in question. Clare was partially stunned by the ray of hope Crowley just cast into the room. Clare may have been mostly useless, but with a twenty-four-hour potion, he at least had a shot at making his husband happy. Though he still felt ashamed, Clare timidly stole a glance at Jude next to him to see how the angel took the news. Jude’s blue eyes were large and full of eagerness as they stared back at the demon. His hand squeezed Clare’s and tugged on it a little.

“You hear that, Clare? We can try again,” Jude whispered, his voice so full of excitement.

Though he felt like a disappointment, hearing the love of his life say something so sweet made Clare smile again.

“Yeah, Jay,” Clare nodded, “We can try.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! *flies around in a diaper, shooting people with love arrows* XD Man, there was a lot of dialogue in this chapter, wasn’t there? But by this point in the story, I think it’s only natural that the Winchesters sit and talk everything out. (Even if it’s about sex. Lol) XD A lot of you have already guessed that the reason the baby-making isn’t working is because Clare is a demon, so great job! XD But I will also say that it’s not only because of that. More about this will be explained later. (Of course) ;) Yes, Meg works for Crowley again. I know that seems really strange, considering that he wanted to straight up kill her in the last fic, but I think it works out. Crowley can see that Meg is taking steps to be a better person and he’s going to make sure she’s staying in line for Clarence. ;) And I know that Michael left out a lot of specific details about Katherine’s birth, but he basically followed Cas’s strategy. (Did he almost die giving birth, like Cas and Gabe did? Maybe he did. And maybe that scared him into not wanting anymore kids. And yes, he is very stupid for not coming to the Winchesters for help! I believe it’s because he’s too proud to ask for help sometimes. It’s an archangel thing. Lol) ;D All that being said, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for reading and commenting! And I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day! I love you all! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	4. Chapter 4

At the request of Jude’s parent’s – namely Cas, who seemed to be the only one in the family that was still upset – Clare and Jude spent the night at the bunker. Crowley and Rowena vowed to have the human potion done by morning and left as soon as the family sex talk was over. As a result, Bobby promised to “make sure those idijits don’t screw anything up more than usual” and left with Meg. Jane bid everyone a goodnight and Jude and Clare good luck before leaving to get some well-deserved rest. Michael and Adam were persuaded to stay the night by Gabriel, who called for an all-angel slumber party. But every Winchester couple was in their own bedroom and asleep by midnight.

Instead of going home to change, Jude and Clare decided to sleep in the same clothes they’d been wearing. The roller coaster of emotions had left them both too exhausted to consider going anywhere. Even though he was tired, and Jude’s old twin-sized bed felt so comfortable, Clare found it difficult to fall asleep. He clung to his husband between the Superman sheets in the soft glow of the Batman nightlight, just staring at him – and internally beating himself up. As a kid, Clare always thought that being part demon was cool. It made him edgier, more powerful, and gave him abilities that other kids only dreamed about having. But as an adult with an angel for a husband, the cons seemed to far outweigh the pros. What was the point of having demonic gifts if he couldn’t use them to give his husband a child? What was so special about being a demon if it prevented him from being a dad?

“Clare?”

Jude’s whisper was low and soft, but it still surprised Clare. Jude’s eyes were closed, so Clare naturally assumed the guy was asleep. Clare gently caressed Jude’s back as he brought his own head a little closer to Jude’s on their shared pillow.

“Yeah, Jay?” Clare whispered back.

Jude shifted around under the covers before he spoke again.

“Do you want a baby?” he mumbled, keeping his eyes closed, “If you don’t, we can stop this. I won’t make you do something that you don’t want to – ”

“Yes,” Clare interrupted, feeling a smirk trying to sneak its way onto his face, “Yeah, I want a baby. What makes you think I wouldn’t?”

Jude was quiet again. He didn’t open his eyes, either. It almost seemed like he was too shy to open them; like he was afraid that he would find Clare glaring at him for even asking, but that wasn’t the case at all.

“Jude. Look at me.”

The angel’s eyelids parted and blinked once before revealing the large oceans to Clare. The pure blue color looked so good in the yellow glow – and that specific shade of sapphire reminded him of why he wanted to have a kid in the first place. The idea of a small baby being half-Jude and half-Clare made him so happy. What could he possibly say to make Jude understand?

“Jay… I fell in love with your laugh. You know that little high-pitched giggle you do when you find something really funny? I _adore_ that shit,” Clare hummed, admiring the smile that rose on Jude’s face, “And your ass. My _God_ , your ass has a perfect curvature. And now that I’ve been around your parents long enough, I can tell you got it from Cas. His is just covered by that trench coat, so it’s hard to see. But I’m grateful he passed it down to you,” Clare chuckled once, reaching up to caress Jude’s warm cheek, “I could talk for hours about how beautiful you are. How much I love your blue eyes, your freckles, your perfect lips, everything. I love how shy you get in public, and how you try to hide behind me in a crowd. I love how sweet and caring you are. You do more for other people than anyone else I’ve ever met, Jay. _of course_ I want to have a baby with you. If we’re lucky, our kid will have everything I just said and _more_ … My heart has already made room for our baby, Jude. It’s open and ready to be filled whenever the time is right.”

Clare hoped that his words made sense. He couldn’t tell whether he made his thoughts clear or just jumbled them up more. Luckily, Jude’s smile widened and his warm hands slid closer around Clare’s bare back. Whatever Clare said seemed to have affected Jude in the best way possible.

“Mine too,” Jude whispered, eyes wandering all over Clare’s face, “I love you so much, Clare.”

With a proud smirk, Clare leaned forward to kiss his husband. Their lips gently pressed together and their eyes closed, savoring the brief contact.

“I love you too, Jay,” the demon breathed, “Now rest up. We’re gonna be getting busy tomorrow.”

Jude chuckled once – that same precious giggle that Clare mentioned earlier – before nestling back against his Superman pillow. Clare continued to watch him for several minutes, just drinking in the moment and reminding himself of how lucky he was to have someone so amazing, before following suit.

Clare was sure that he had only just shut his eyes when a loud knock filled the room. The sound stirred him out of his sleep just in time to see the door open a few feet away, flooding the bedroom with light from the hallway. The change in brightness was enough to wake Jude. Both husbands instantly unwound their limbs from each other and sat up, squinting toward the figures waiting in the hall. There were three of them standing in a huddle, and the strong scent of coffee was wafting from them.

“Good morning, sons,” Cas’s deep voice greeted.

Clare blinked several more times. Wait. Morning? Already? But, how? Clare looked to Jude next to him for an answer, but found the angel already standing up. There was a sense of excitement in his movements, like a kid about to find out if Santa Claus had visited through the night.

“Did they make the potion? Is it ready?” Jude blurted.

Clare recognized his mother’s slender silhouette as she carefully shifted around the other two people to get inside the bedroom. She was carrying a travel cup in each hand, the first of which she offered to Clarence. Though he was still attempting to wrap his head around the fact that he had slept all night without noticing, he thanked her and took the warm container.

“Yep. The red-head sent me to fetch you,” Meg answered, holding the other cup out to Jude.

Unbridled joy burst across Jude’s face as he took the coffee and Clare couldn’t help but smile. Nothing made him happier than knowing his favorite person in the world was happy. Cas and Dean seemed to share their son’s enthusiasm, because they came further into the room with equal giddiness.

“Come, everyone. We should travel to Bobby’s at once,” Cas suggested.

“Whoa, Cas, hold your horses. The boys just woke up. They might need a minute,” Dean explained.

As Clare took his first drink of warm coffee, he saw Cas narrow his eyes toward Dean.

“I do not have horses, Dean,” the angel mumbled in confusion, “Even if I did, why would I hold – ?”

“ _Nevermind_ , babe,” Dean grumbled with a sigh, “Just give them a second, will you?”

“Actually, we’re ready to go,” Jude said quickly, looking to his husband, “Right, Clare? Are you ready?”

Clare bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Jude was so cute when he was excited about something. Even though the demon was still a little disoriented, Clare dragged himself off the bed, took another drink, and shrugged.

“I guess,” he conceded.

“Then stand here,” Cas pointed out, gathering everyone around him, “I will fly us all to South Dakota.”

Clare took a moment to slip his shoes back on, toss back the rest of his coffee, and comb his fingers through his own shaggy blonde hair before joining the group. Jude wrapped both arms around him, hugging him sideways as their parents circled them. Cas stretched his arms as wide as he could to touch everyone before taking off. Clare barely had time to blink before he was standing in front of Bobby’s fridge. In a split second, the five of them had gone from Jude’s bedroom to Singer’s kitchen, two states away. Cas’s hand fell from Clare’s shoulder, but Jude stayed wrapped around him like a baby koala until Clare kissed his forehead.

“Flight’s over, Jaybird,” Clare assured.

As Jude raised his head, Meg broke away and started for the hall.

“Come on. They’re downstairs,” she informed.

Clare followed his mother as she led the group toward Bobby’s basement door, holding onto Jude’s hand the whole time. Before they even reached the stairs, Clare could hear familiar voices coming up from the basement.

“ _I already told you, I didn’t touch your bloody spice rack, woman,”_ Crowley’s agitated voice echoed against the stone walls, “ _In fact, I find it hard to believe that_ anyone _would want to touch your rack_.”

“ _You’d be surprised, Fergus. How do ya think ya came into this world, hmm? I’ll give you a hint, dearie. The stork couldn’t be bothered to carry yer fat arse,_ ” Rowena shot back.

Crowley groaned aloud and it made Clare fight another laugh. Ah, there was nothing like the sound of the Singers arguing in the morning… Bobby’s basement – which Rowena had transformed into her own personal potion room, and was where she taught Clare almost everything he knew about brewing – was brightly lit with various candles. Rowena was a firm believer that fluorescent light dulled the effects of her potions, so she stuck to traditional firelight. When the Winchesters came down the stairs, her argument with Crowley paused and she gave them a welcoming smile from behind her caldron as she filled a glass bottle.

“Ah, my boys! Come down, loves, the potion’s just about cool,” she assured.

“I see you didn’t muck up the transport. It’s about time you did something right,” Crowley muttered condescendingly to Meg.

Mom only shrugged, but Clare made sure to give Crowley a warning look. There was no need for him to talk to her like that. She hadn’t done anything to warrant his sour attitude. Crowley caught the look and relented, easing up on his harsh expression to wear a slightly nicer one.

“Where’s Bobby?” Dean asked.

“Upstairs getting his beauty sleep,” Crowley answered.

“Is it finished? Were you able to make it?” Jude interrupted the conversation to ask, his blue eyes still lit up as he looked to the witch.

“Of course, love! I can brew anything,” she winked, “There’s just one little thing I wanted to talk with ya about…”

Before anyone could ask question, Rowena reached behind the caldron and brought forth _two_ separate potion bottles. Clare looked between both glasses, seeing that the orange color and slimy textures in each looked identical. It was the same potion in two different bottles, but why? Would Jude have to take it too? That didn’t make sense. They needed his grace to carry the baby.

“Uh, why are there two?” Dean asked.

“You see, I’m familiar with this particular brew,” Rowena explained, “I have no doubt that it will work. The question is, how powerful will it be?”

“What do you mean?” Cas pressed.

“She means we want to test it on someone else first. See how it effects them and adjust the dose accordingly,” Crowley explained, “I’ve already contacted my most expendable subordinate and – ”

In the middle of Crowley’s sentence, Meg took three large steps toward the table, swiped one of the bottles up and started to chug it before anyone could stop her. Clare, Jude, and Rowena all audibly gasped and Crowley reached out to grab her by the wrist. But by then, the bottle was already empty. Meg drank the whole thing without so much as a word.

“ _Mom_!” Clare shouted in horror.

“What the bloody hell have you done?!” Crowley asked.

Meg raised an eyebrow and glanced around at everyone’s shocked faces. She was totally calm, expression serene as she shrugged at the king of hell.

“I didn’t see the point of waiting around for a guinea pig,” she hummed.

“The _point_ is that potion could possibly _kill_ you!” Rowena snapped.

“Like you would care if I died,” Meg scoffed.

“We wouldn’t, but _the boy_ would,” Crowley barked, forcefully tossing her wrist away.

Clare felt like agreeing with Crowley, but he couldn’t find his voice. He was terrified that his mother’s life could be in danger. _Again_! Dammit, why would she put herself at risk like that?! Clare clung to Jude’s hand and stood still when Meg turned to face him. Her eyes were super soft, mouth set with determination. How could she be so calm?!

“It’s okay, kid,” she promised, even though it wasn’t her promise to make.

“Meg, that was incredibly foolish,” Castiel said lowly in an attempt to reprimand her, “You should have thought about Clarence before taking –”

“I _was_ thinking of him,” she corrected, her sight moving back and forth between them, “I wasn’t going to let the kid take something that I wouldn’t take myself.”

“That’s why we were goin’ to test it first, you idiotic sow!” Rowena huffed.

“Alright, guys, enough arguing. What’s done is done,” Dean barked, ending the fight, “Meg? How are you feeling?”

Clare tightened his hand around his husband’s as he studied his mom in the middle of the room. So far, nothing was out of place. She was standing there like normal, looking down at her own body as if she was trying to figure it out herself. Everyone else in the room was looking at her too, watching for any changes. Clare noticed that her skin color was gradually altering ever so slightly. Instead of its usual pale color, it started to look tanner. Her hair seemed brighter, too; silkier and wavier.

“… Tired,” Meg eventually said, “And kind of hungry… Really hungry. And my feet hurt. I want to sit down.”

Cas grabbed a folding chair from the back wall and brought it over so that Mom could sit on it. Clare was worried that the potion was having some bad effects on her. What if it messed her up? Oh, God, what if it was permanent? Meg slumped over onto the chair and grimaced.

“Is this really what it’s like to feel human?” she asked, “I forgot how much it sucks. I just want to take a nap. And down a keg of beer. And eat something loaded with carbs.”

“She sounds human to me,” Dean shrugged.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Rowena announced.

The red-haired witch came around the table holding a needle. Without warning, she took Mom’s hand and pricked her finger. Meg instantly gasped and recoiled her hand, glaring at Rowena.

“ _Ow_! You _bitch_! That hurt!” she groaned.

Rowena took the needle, which had a drop of Mom’s blood on it, and walked back around to the other side of the table. She dipped the bloody needle into a separate potion bottle and swirled it around in the clear mixture. The liquid in the bottle remained unchanged, dissolving the blood inside. Rowena looked up from the vial with a proud grin.

“It worked. Meg’s as human as they come,” she sang.

“So – so she’ll be alright?” Jude timidly asked.

“Of course, love. The effects should wear off about this time tomorrow,” Rowena assured.

“And what about Clare? Will it work for him?” Dean asked.

“I don’t think he should take that whole bottle,” Meg spoke up to say, briefly raising a hand from her chair, “Clare’s only half demon… and if this is a full dose… I think it’ll knock him on his ass.”

“I agree,” Jude stated boldly, “He’s not taking all of that.”

Clare gulped and glanced sideways at his husband. It wasn’t often that he heard Jude speak with such dominance. The guy was confident in his order, and Crowley and Rowena could tell he meant business. The ginger witch gave a single nod before spinning back to her caldron.

“Very well,” she agreed, picking up the other potion and holding it toward Clare, “Here, sweet lamb. Only take ya a wee drink. If ya need more, we’ll adjust it.”

Clare’s sight dropped to the vial in Rowena’s delicate hand and he briefly studied the contents. The swirly orange potion was a little intimidating. Clare had never been anything other than a half demon. Would full humanity feel any different? What if he accidently took too much and became human forever or something? Though his inner monologue frightened him, the feeling of Jude’s hand in his own gave Clare the encouragement he needed to take the bottle and tip some liquid into his mouth. It had the consistency of egg yolks and tasted like gym socks, which made him gag a little bit after drinking it.

Once he had the potion down, Clare and everyone else waited for the effects to kick in. Clare didn’t feel any different at first, only disgust from the gross taste of the liquid. He knew that his family was waiting on a verdict, especially Jude, whose unblinking blue eyes stayed nervously fixed on him… Then, it slowly dawned on Clare. It was like a protective casing had been peeled off his body. Small aches and pains felt ten times worse. Tiredness had taken over and he realized that he _really_ needed to take a piss…

“Clare? Are you okay?” Jude sounded concerned.

“How are you feeling, love?” Rowena asked.

“I – I need to take a piss,” Clare admitted, crossing his legs as he inched for the stairs.

“Wait, boy. Mother needs to prick your finger first,” Crowley said.

Though he felt like running to the bathroom, Clare lingered in place and held out his hand. Rowena reached out with a fresh needle and poked the tip of his middle finger – and the sharp flash of pain that shot through his body made Clare gasp in shock.

“ _Ow!_ _Shit!_ That _does_ hurt!” he shouted.

Clare flailed his hand back and forth, trying to get rid of the pain. Jude reached up and grabbed it, lighting up his own fingers with his grace. The angel’s celestial touch took away all the pain and made the blood disappear. Clare looked down at his own hand in wonder, still amazed that Jude could heal him so fast.

“It seems to have worked,” Rowena called from the table, holding up the same bottle of clear liquid, “Congratulations, lamb. Yer officially a child of Adam.”

“Great,” Clare huffed, “Can I go pee, now?”

“Of course,” Crowley allowed, “and the rest of us will make ourselves scarce, so that you and your husband can get busy. Feel free to use your bedroom upstairs.”

Clare only nodded, silently counting down the seconds until he could run upstairs and deflate his bladder. Rowena dashed over to wrap him and Jude into a quick and delighted hug.

“Best of luck to ya both,” she sang, “If ya need a little extra incentive, Robert and Fergus have a few toys hidden in the – ”

“ _Mother!_ ” Crowley snapped, his bearded face tinted red, “ _Shut your blasted trap!_ ”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Jude smiled uncomfortably.

Cas and Dean came over next to wish Jude and Clare good luck, but the only thing Clare could think about was how much he needed a toilet.

“If you need anything, son, just pray,” Cas called.

“Thanks, but we’ll be fine, Pop. Bye,” Jude said quickly, trying to rush them away.

The older adults in the room gathered around Cas and he vanished with them all, flying them out of Bobby’s house to give Jude and Clare some alone time. As soon as their parents were gone, Clare kissed the back of Jude’s hand before letting go and bolting for the stairs.

“Sorry, Jay, but I’ve gotta go,” he called over his shoulder, “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

* * *

Jude nervously bit his own fingernails as he paced in front of the bathroom door. Clare had been in there for about eight minutes and it was starting to concern the angel. Was the need to urinate a side effect of the potion? Or just a side effect of being human? Was Clare okay in there? Did he pass out or something? Worry eventually got the best of Jude and he knocked on the door.

“Clare? Are you okay?” he called.

The muffled sound of a flush was the only reply he got. It was followed by a few footsteps and then the door finally swung open. Clare seemed to have a lot more color than Jude remembered. His cheeks were pink, his blonde hair had more gold, and his eyes were bright green. But he was obviously tired. The second he opened the door, Clare’s mouth stretched with a huge yawn.

“I don’t know. I’m just so tired all the sudden. And I’ve got the munchies,” Clare admitted, holding a hand to his stomach.

“Tell you what,” Jude began, using the most persuasive voice he could manage as he slipped his arms around Clare’s waist, “If you lay me down and pump me full of your man juice, then I’ll feed you some extra cheesy pizza in bed. Deal?”

A naughty smile grew across Clare’s pretty face and he glided farther into Jude’s embrace.

“You had me at man juice,” he agreed, bowing his head to brush his lips across Jude’s neck “How would you like your sex served to you today, Jay? Soft and sweet? Or nice and _rough_?”

Clare shoved Jude’s back to the wall, making a few picture frames rattle against the wood. Jude sucked in an erotic gasp at the forcefulness, feeling his own organ start to pump to life in his jeans. He and Clare had never really had rough sex before. To be honest, Jude was pretty sure that roughness was not in Clare’s nature. He was just saying that to get Jude going. And man, was it working…

Jude’s mouth instantly found Clare’s and the two of them kissed deeply. With his husband’s wet tongue in his mouth, Jude started to slide along the wall to Clare’s bedroom door, quickly shrugging out of his own jacket and unbuttoning his plaid shirt. As they reached the door, Clare’s mouth moved to Jude’s neck and sucked on it, causing even more echoes of pleasure to grace the angel’s body. They stumbled into Clare’s bedroom just in time for Jude to undo his pants.

The inside of Clare’s old bedroom smelled faintly of his cologne. Jude breathed in deep as the two of them parted to finish taking off their clothes, savoring the scent. It was only five years earlier that he and Clare made love for the first time in this very room. They were only teenagers back then, with so little knowledge of love, life, or the world… Jude noticed that Clare was panting more than usual. The guy sounded completely out of breath and they hadn’t even made it to the bed yet.

“Jay,” he huffed, “You might… You might have to be on top this time. That potion’s got me all sorts of messed up.”

“Are you okay?” Jude asked again.

Clare paused to pull down his boxers – revealing his pale ass, which intensified the blood flow to Jude’s face and dick – before flopping himself over on the bed. His bony chest rose and fell with his breathing and his stiffening penis bobbed around before falling flat against his stomach.

“I’m just tired,” Clare answered, rolling his head toward Jude and beckoning him with his hand, “C’mere and lemme loosen you up.”

Jude was still concerned about his husband’s health, but finished pulling off the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed to sit on his knees. Clare stuck his own finger in his mouth to wet it before reaching between Jude’s legs to prod it against his hole. The slick digit entered him effortlessly and began to massage the tight tissue, loosening its grip to allow another of Clare’s fingers inside. While Clare readied him, Jude reached over to tug on Clare’s long dick. It was only semi-hard, but Jude carefully coaxed it into a hardened state. Clare smiled up at him from the bed, seeming amused.

“It’s almost like we’ve done this a million times or something,” he breathed.

Jude smiled down at his husband’s handsome face.

“We’re like a couple of animals,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, we are. My mate is in heat and I’m gonna bang him until he’s satisfied,” Clare smirked, thrusting his hips with Jude’s tugging motions, “You about ready to sit on this thing or what?”

With a tantalizing grin, Jude leaned down to capture Clare’s mouth as he shifted around to toss a leg over Clare’s waist. Clare’s fingers slipped out of Jude’s hole but they were quickly replaced with Clare’s throbbing erection. Jude could feel blood pumping along the hot shaft as he held it still to slide on top of it. He and Clare both added a few more globs of spit before it finally pushed its way inside to fill him up. Jude bit down a moan as he slowly bounced up and down on top of Clare, feeling himself clinch eagerly around Clare’s dick. Clare hummed a little as his hands clung to Jude’s thighs.

“Damn, Jay… You look so good at this angle,” he breathed.

Jude whimpered a little, using the springs of the mattress to ride even faster. His own swollen member bounced up and down, gently smacking Clare’s flat stomach with each fall. Clare’s hand eventually reached over to stroke it, which sent pleasure racing through Jude’s body. But Jude tried to ignore the sensation. He didn’t care about his own pleasure. The creation of their child depended solely on Clare being able to ejaculate inside him.

To excite his husband further, Jude ran his hands along Clare’s bare chest and leaned down to kiss him again. Jude moaned and whimpered louder too, trying to turn Clare on even more. It seemed to be working. Clare’s fingers were digging into the soft meat of Jude’s thighs and his breath was hitching.

“Holy shit,” Clare panted, pausing to let his tongue swim against Jude’s again, “You’re so tight, Jay.”

“ _Mmm_ ,” Jude hummed, tangling his fingers in Clare’s hair, “Sh – should I come out, now?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Clare groaned, thrusting harder as they bounced.

Jude immediately raised back up to a sitting position and carefully brought his grace forward. Loose objects in the room started to rattle, the ceiling light flickered, papers ruffled, and the atmosphere flexed. Jude’s skin started to glow white, shining bright enough to gleam in Clare’s eyes. Every sensation became intensely acute. Jude could feel every fiber of the bed sheets under his knees, every droplet of sweat growing on his forehead and down his back, each pulse of blood that circulated up and down the veins in Clare’s erection. The drastic change in sensation always took Jude by surprise. He sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold, clinging desperately to Clare’s torso as he bounced with all his might.

“ _Shit, Jude! Ahh_!” Clare cried.

With his husband’s voice echoing around the trembling room, Jude forced his muscles to clinch tighter. He was eager to receive Clare’s donation this time. So ready to help make magic happen. Using his elbows, Clare crawled his way up to a sitting position for better thrusting power. Jude moaned at the difference of speed, cradling the back of Clare’s head as they blinked at each other. The room continued to quake in the presence of Jude’s grace, reinforcing the desperation of it all. With two more hard thrusts, Clare bear-hugged Jude’s torso and shouted out.

“ _Gnah! Oh God! J – Jay!_ ” Clare squeaked.

But Jude barely heard the noises because he was suddenly focused on the hot liquid pulsing into his stomach. There it was again; Clare’s seed, ripe and ready to be planted. Only this time, it was purely human. Not only did Jude stop bouncing, but he cradled his own stomach, too; attempting to somehow keep it all inside. It pulsed about four times before Clare slowed to a stop. His head must have been heavy because he immediately laid it against Jude’s chest and let his arms go limp.

“Shit,” he panted, voice muffled against Jude’s skin, “Did – did we do it?”

Being careful, Jude leaned forward to lay them both down. The angel rolled off his husband, gradually pulling Clare’s erection out to keep most of the fluid inside himself. Once he was on his back, Jude stared down at his own glowing body and waited. His heart was racing like crazy behind his ribs, fueling the thoughts in his head. This was it! This was the moment their child would be created! And he would be able to feel every little sensation in his body!

Jude left his grace open for several more minutes, which caused the bedroom to keep trembling. Clare laid next to him on the bed with a wilting erection, sweating and blinking between Jude’s stomach and face. But neither of them said a word. It was the moment of truth and they didn’t want to jinx it by talking. Eventually, Jude slowly started to retract his grace. The light slipped away from his fingers and toes first, draining his limbs back into their usual states. His head and vision returned to normal too, and the room finally quieted down. The only light of grace left lingered around his chest and stomach, lingering there on purpose.

… but then, it faded out too.

Jude watched his own light dim and dim until he was staring at his darkened stomach for the umpteenth time. Once again, Jude found himself laying naked in bed with the warmth of his husband’s seed dispersing inside him. His grace was empty, just like it had always been. Empty. Fruitless. Barren. Useless. Michael was right. His grace wasn’t made to create. It was a black hole that destroyed everything it touched. Even with Clare being totally human, they still weren’t able to conceive a child. And it only confirmed what Jude knew all along…

Jude was the defective one. He always had been. And always would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Paints a target on my own torso* Okay. Feel free to shoot or stab me whenever you’re ready. XD Yes, sadly, our beloved Jude is still not pregnant. But remember, this story is called ‘Miracles’ for a reason. ;) As terrible as the end of this chapter was, I hope you enjoyed the rest of it. :D I know it was a little weird at the beginning when Clare was talking about Cas’s ass, but that’s actually a call back to chapter 3 of ‘Devotion,’ when Clare asked Jude where he got his ass from. (I’ll give 50 points to anyone who remembered that without me mentioning it. You are my favorite human beings. Lol) XD I think Meg has taken her ‘Mom’ role very seriously ever since Dean and Cas talked her out of her suicide attempt, which explains her willingness to test the potion on herself in this chapter. Though, Cas was right. It was still very foolish. ;D I know that a lot of you are wondering why none of these plans or potions are working. Well, I’ve got good news for you. Many, if not all, of your questions will be answered in the next chapter! :D One more week, and things will finally be looking up! :D Thank you guys sooo much for sticking with this story even though it hurts sometimes. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate hearing from all of you. I love you guys! *hugs* The next chapter – in which Jude will have a nice, long talk with his grandpa Chuck – will be out soon! :D


	5. Chapter 5

While Jude lay naked next to Clare with his eyes fixed on his own stomach, his emotions stewed, simmered, and eventually started to bubble over. Debilitating sadness that had firmly embedded itself into his heart was morphing into rage. They had tried everything. He and Clare had attempted each and every plan that they – _that their entire family_ – could think of, and nothing worked. The lack of results and general unfairness of it all did more than just upset Jude. It royally pissed him off.

With tears swelling around his eyes, Jude huffed a breath and rolled off the bed to grab his clothes from the floor. He forcefully yanked his underwear on and thrust his legs into his jeans, only pausing to violently wipe the moisture from his sight so that he could see what the hell he was doing.

“Jude.”

Clare’s voice was soft and curious, but Jude didn’t stop. He clinched his jaw tight and furiously buckled his belt before starting to put on his shirt again. He was sick of being naked; sick of trying to force his useless body to do something it refused to do. He felt trapped in his own skin. Imprisoned by flesh and grace. ‘ _Carrying a child to full term inside my grace went against its very nature_.’ Why did Michael have to say that bullshit? Why did he have to be an asshole?! Why did he have to be _right_?!

“Jay, come on. What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” Jude spat as he snatched his socks and shoes from the floor.

The angel couldn’t stay inside any longer. He needed to get out and breathe before he had a panic attack and accidently blew up the house with his stupid grace.

“Leaving?” Clare breathed, sounding concerned, “N – no, don’t leave. Come back over here and lay with me. The potion lasts for twenty-four hours. We can try aga –”

“ _NO_!” Jude shouted.

He whipped around to finally stare down at his husband, who was still resting naked on the bed. Clare looked so bewildered, blinking up at Jude with enlarged green eyes.

“I’m done trying. I’m done with all this bullshit,” Jude growled, unable to hold his emotions back, “My heart can’t take it anymore, okay? I’m done. _I’m done_!”

“Alright, geez. We won’t try anymore,” Clare said, raising his hands defensively, “Just calm down.”

“Calm down?!” Jude yelled in surprise, “ _Don’t tell me to calm down, Clare! You don’t know how this feels! You don’t know what it’s like to want something so bad, but can’t have it!_ ” 

“ _Yes, I do!_ ” Clare defended, instantly sitting up on the bed and lowering his eyebrows, “Shit, Jude, do you really think you’re alone in this? I’ve done everything I can to make this work. Look at me! I’m human right now!”

Jude crossed his arms and shook his head, feeling a hot tear drip down his own face. Clare might have been right, but Jude was _also_ right. No one understood how Jude was feeling. Not even Clare could relate to his struggle. Jude’s grace had been messed up since he was a little kid and the only one who knew Jude’s pain was Jude himself.

“I don’t know what else you want me to do,” Clare added, his voice lower, “Look, I know you want a baby, but… Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

Clare’s statement was a devastating blow to Jude’s heart. The angel tightened his arms around his own torso and turned to face the door, trying so hard to hold in tears. It sounded like even Clare – Jude’s most loving, loyal, faithful ally – was giving up on the idea of having kids. And in the end, it was really all Jude’s fault. Clare was right. The demon had done everything in his power to help make this work, but it was all on Jude…

“I need some air,” Jude whispered.

Afterward, he closed his eyes and imagined the airiest and most open place he could think of. When he felt a gentle breeze on his face, Jude opened his eyes again to see that he had flown himself to the playground in Lebanon. The afternoon sun was shining down on all the colorful swing sets, slides, and the jungle gyms, and warmed Jude’s wet face. The sound of children laughing and playing came from all around him – and he realized that this was a horrible idea. Why did he come here, of all places? The very thought of children haunted him wherever he went.

Jude started to trudge over the mulchy ground to get away from the small crowd and be alone. On the way, he thought about calling one of his parents to be with him, but then he remembered that they would probably ask how the baby-making went and he didn’t want to talk about the latest disaster. He also thought about Jessie, but figured that she would ask too. And then, as Jude finally approached the edge of the playground, someone else crossed his mind. Someone he hadn’t seen in years. And the more Jude thought of him, the more determined he felt. Jude’s feet eventually slowed to a stop near some trash cans and he glanced up toward the blue sky.

“Grandpa,” Jude prayed lowly, “Where are you?”

Nothing seemed to happen. Jude timidly glanced around the park, silently scanning for curly dark hair, blue eyes, and a beard. But the only adults were those playing with their children. The lack of response drove Jude to grit his teeth again. His grace flared a little, creating small electric sparks between his fingers.

“ _Answer me!_ ” Jude demanded.

“I’m here.”

Jude’s grace fled back into his body and he spun around at the sound of Grandpa Chuck’s voice. The curly-haired man smiled when Jude looked upon him, and the soft expression on Grandpa’s face instantly put Jude at ease. He was wearing casual clothing and an honest smile, outlined by a faint holy glow in the sunshine. He strolled toward Jude one light step at a time with his hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his jeans. Though he was comforted by the sight of his Grandpa, Jude had a hard time letting go of his anger.

“Where have you been?” Jude asked.

“Right here with you,” Grandpa answered, “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

Jude found that statement hard to believe, since he had been going through such a difficult time. Why would Grandpa just stand by and watch instead of intervening with his infinite divinity?

“Then you know what’s going on,” Jude assumed, “You know Clare and I are trying to have a baby, but we can’t.”

Grandpa nodded, his smile remaining intact. And the answer only enraged Jude more. How could Grandpa know all of this and still not do anything about it?! How could he smile so happily when Jude had been going through hell?!

“How can you smile like that?!” Jude barked, “I’m pissed! I’m so sad and angry, I can barely think straight! I’ve been depressed for months! This has been the worst year of my life!”

Grandpa tilted his head, his smile dimming just a little. He looked confused, almost offended.

“Really? _This_ has been the worst year of your life?” he asked.

“ _Yes!_ ” Jude snapped.

Grandpa nodded and inhaled a slow, deep breath, taking one of his hands out of his pockets to briefly rub his bearded chin.

“Wow. Worst year of your life, huh? What exactly happened this year? Let’s see,” he mumbled in a calm, wholesome voice, “You married your soulmate – which, by the way, was beautiful. Especially when Clare played that song for you at the reception. Did you know he worked for weeks to get it right? And it came out perfect. I loved it.”

Jude gulped and timidly looked away. He had totally forgotten about his wedding and Clare’s song…

“Your niece, Charlie, was born,” Grandpa reminded, “and despite how much she gets along with Clare, _you_ are her favorite uncle, Jude. She tells me so all the time.”

Again, Jude swallowed a bit, still too ashamed to meet eyes with his Grandpa.

“Also, you and Clare moved into your own house, which was a big first step. I remember how homesick you were during that first night away from the bunker, and I was so proud of you for sticking it out,” Grandpa beamed, “And your cousin Katherine came into this world. You don’t know it yet, but she’s going to look up to you a lot when she gets older, because the two of you will bond over a shared love of comic books.”

New tears were forming in Jude’s eyes faster than he could blink them away. His anger was replaced with shame and guilt. How could Jude ignore so much? Grandpa’s warm smile eventually slipped into a more serious look as he blinked down at Jude in the afternoon sunshine.

“Lots of wonderful things happened to you this year, Jude,” he said softly, “Are you really sure it was the worst one of your whole life?”

Jude knew that everything Grandpa said was true, and he didn’t want to discredit any of it. But he still had a dilemma. The reason he was so angry was because he wanted, so desperately, to have a baby and finally be a father.

“It wasn’t all bad,” Jude allowed, sniffling a bit, “… but I’m still upset. I still don’t have a baby, Grandpa.”

“I know,” Grandpa sighed, reaching out to wrap an arm around Jude’s shoulder, “Come on. Walk with me a little while.”

With the gentlest guidance, Grandpa turned Jude toward the path that circled the playground and the two of them started to walk among the other park guests. The sound of children giggling and leaves rustling in the breeze played in the background when Grandpa spoke again.

“Listen, Jude. I know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times, but it still rings true. Everything happens for a reason,” he explained, “Not only that, but everything happens _when_ its supposed to happen. You can’t speed it up, slow it down, or change it. Things will happen when and how they are meant to. That’s just how the universe works. The good news is you won’t ever have to face any of it alone.”

Jude took a deep breath of fresh air and glanced at the small kids playing on the swing set. Grandpa always said the loveliest things, but how did they apply to Jude’s situation?

“My grace doesn’t work right,” Jude muttered out loud, “Why did you give me this grace when I can’t even control it?”

Grandpa chuckled lightly, smiling briefly up at the sky. It was like he thought Jude had told a joke.

“Oh, dear sweet boy,” he said, “You’ll find out in time.”

Jude felt like rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to ‘find out in time.’ He wanted to know _now_. But maybe Grandpa had a point. Maybe there was a reason Jude had an insane amount of grace. Even so, how was that supposed to help with his and Clare’s situation? Thinking about Clare again made Jude feel terrible. He didn’t mean to get so mad at Clare earlier. Jude let his anger get the best of him and that wasn’t fair…

“I… I yelled at Clare,” Jude mumbled as they walked along.

“Don’t worry. He’s already forgiven you,” Grandpa assured.

Jude gulped again. Really? Clare forgave him already? Somehow, that made Jude feel worse.

“What am I supposed to do?” Jude finally asked.

Grandpa’s steps slowly stopped and he looked out at the people playing in the park. His blue eyes eventually fell back to Jude and held a touch of wisdom and riddle.

“Be yourself,” Grandpa answered, “I know you’ve had trouble embracing who you really are, Jude, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. Just be yourself. Love everyone. Forgive easily. Be patient. Do your best. Be grateful for what you have. Chat with me when you can. And I promise that you will get everything you’ve ever wished for. And _more_.”

Finally, at long last, Jude felt a genuine smile stretch across his own face. The raging storm in his heart subsided and quieted into a somber mist. Grandpa seemed to sense the change because his own smile widened and he pulled Jude in for a quick hug. Jude closed his eyes, savoring the overwhelming warmth of his Grandpa’s love. All at once, he felt completely at peace. About the future, about his life, about everything. Grandpa eventually pulled away and patted Jude on the shoulder before stepping forward. It seemed like he was about to walk away when he paused again and turned around to give Jude another misty-eyed look.

“You know, if everyone got exactly what they needed when they needed it, there would be no such thing as a miracle,” he hummed.

After sharing his pearl of wisdom, Grandpa Chuck winked, smiled, and turned to stroll away, whistling a tune as he went. He casually bent down to pick up a stick from the ground and tossed it for a nearby Golden Retriever, who happily chased after it. And then, he walked into thin air, slowly fading into the sunshine and leaving Jude to stand in the park among the laughter of small children.

Jude had an entirely different outlook on things than he did when he first showed up at the park. His soul was at ease and his heart felt whole again. He loitered next to a few bushes and flowers, eying the colorful petals that danced in the warm breeze. Now, the only thing left on Jude’s mind was repairing the damage he caused between himself and his husband.

* * *

After Jude left, Clare sat alone on his old bed for a long time. He hoped that Jude would come back and yell at him or swear or scream; anything to keep their conversation going. Arguing with Jude was far better than being without him. But several minutes passed and Clare realized that Jude wasn’t coming back. At least, not for a while. Jude just needed some air. And Clare needed something to eat…

With his gut churning, half from being empty and half from anxiety, Clare slowly climbed off the bed and got dressed to head downstairs. The whole house was silent as he made his way to the kitchen and looked in the fridge. One of Bobby’s dogs – Peter? Or was it Willy? Clare could never tell them apart – popped up from his bed in the study and came in to watch Clare scour the kitchen for something to put in his gut. The demon decided just to have some orange juice. After the loud fight with his husband, Clare didn’t have much of an appetite.

When he poured himself a glass and sat down at the table, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Clare raised his head and looked to the kitchen entrance, expecting to see Jude’s freckled face. But it was Bobby who came in. The old man was wearing a robe and his gray hair was a mess on his head. His other two dogs were wandering around at his feet, joining the other hellhound in the kitchen. The old man scratched his beard as he came in and blinked toward Clare.

“What the hell was all that banging?” he asked.

Bobby was obviously referring to the sounds Jude’s grace made when it shook the house earlier, but Clare couldn’t help but noticed the double entendre. If only Bobby knew…

“That was me and Jude,” the demon mumbled, “Sorry…”

“Hmph,” Bobby grunted as he shuffled toward the coffee maker, “I guess you’re human, then? Crowley and Rowena finished the potion?”

“Yeah,” Clare muttered, eying the orange liquid in his cup, “But, uh… It still didn’t work.”

There was a quiet moment in which Bobby poured himself a mug of steaming coffee and sat across from Clare at the table. Clare didn’t look up, though. He couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the swirls of pulp in his drink and think about the pain and rage on Jude’s precious face. Clare would give anything to take that pain away…

“So, it’s back to the drawing board,” Bobby sighed.

Clare didn’t answer. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It was painful enough just thinking about it. Instead, he swished his drink around and bounced his knee.

“You just gonna look at it, or are ya gonna drink it?”

Clare finally looked up, seeing a scruffy old man staring back at him. Bobby Singer had been through a lot, hadn’t he? Maybe he would be able to help Clare figure out what to do.

“Bobby, you fight with Crowley a lot,” he pointed out.

Bobby chuckled and nodded.

“A-hell-of-a-lot,” he agreed.

“But you make up, right?” Clare asked, “I mean, you stay together. You talk through your problems and you work it out.”

“That’s right, son,” Bobby said, taking a swig of his coffee, “Makin’ up is the best part. That’s probably why me and the ol’ brit bastard fight so much. ‘Cause we love makin’ up afterward.”

Clare smiled. It was nice to hear that his adoptive parents loved each other despite their constant bickering. A loud gurgle rose from Clare’s stomach, shooting pain through his abdomen and causing him to double over in his chair. Something about that potion wasn’t sitting well with him. Either that, or he was human enough to experience raw pain at its worst.

“What’s the matter?” Bobby asked, tone serious.

“That potion’s got me messed up,” Clare admitted.

Without a word, Bobby stood up from the table and walked into the study behind him. Clare watched him go, wondering why the guy suddenly had the urge to leave. The old man walked over to his liquor cabinet and dug out a tiny vial before shuffling quickly back into the kitchen and holding it out to Clare.

“Here. Take this.”

“Wh – why? What is it?” Clare asked.

“It’s an antidote. I keep a fresh bottle made, just incase my mother-in-law makes somethin’ unholy. It’ll get rid of whatever you took,” Bobby explained, holding it out further, “Go ahead. It won’t bite ya.”

Clare took the small vial and held it in his hand. His first thought was of Jude and how much the guy wanted a baby. What if Jude came back and wanted to try again, only to find out that Clare was back to being a demon? Would he get even more upset? While Clare debated the situation, his stomach and chest ached again. Maybe Jude wouldn’t mind. After all, he said he was done trying anyway. In fact, he practically screamed it…

With a defeated sigh, Clare uncorked the bottle and drank all the contents in one go. From the moment it touched his tongue, Clare felt loads better. He could feel his own demonic aura coming back in waves, covering him in the protective casing he was born with. A few moments later, it felt like he was totally back to normal. He flashed his own eyes black to test it, looking around the kitchen with his enhanced vision before blinking them back to their chestnut shades.

“Thanks,” Clare said as he handed the empty vial back.

“No problem, kid,” Bobby assured, sitting back down to sip some more coffee, “So, they made you take something crazy, huh? Bet it tasted like ass. Their potions always taste like ass…”

Clare chuckled once because it was true.

“Gym socks, actually,” he replied, “It worked… until it didn’t.”

“Usually how it goes,” Bobby shrugged, “Don’t worry, son. It’ll happen for you guys. Just gotta be patient and figure it out.”

“I know,” Clare exhaled, shoving his cup of juice away so that he could cross both arms on the table and hang his head, “I just wish I could convince Jude of that.”

The two of them were quiet again, sitting in the rays of afternoon sun that stretched through the blinds of the kitchen window. Once again, Jude was the highlight of Clare’s thoughts. Where was he? Did he fly home to be with his parents? Or was he all alone somewhere; trying to cope with his emotions all by himself? That wasn’t right. Clare didn’t want the poor guy to be alone. Not when the situation was partly Clare’s fault, too…

“What can I do, Bobby?” Clare mumbled toward the table.

Bobby sat down his mug like he was preparing to answer, but their conversation was interrupted by a small gust of wind. It came from the right side of the kitchen, drawing Clare’s attention up toward the back door. And there stood Jude, Clare’s husband, looking exactly the same as he did when he left. Only now, there was no pain in his expression. Jude’s arms were folded behind his back and he looked almost… happy. Clare jolted up from his chair, honoring the arrival of his husband by getting to his feet. Jude smiled timidly at the action, glancing between Clare and Bobby.

“Hi,” Jude began, bringing his sight solely to the demon, “Clare, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Clare tore his eyes away from Jude to glance at Bobby. Luckily, the old man didn’t need a hint. He simply smiled, picked up his coffee mug, and headed out of the room with a trail of dogs following him.

“You boys be good,” he called as he went.

With Bobby gone, Jude and Clare were alone once again. Clare assumed that he needed to be the first to talk, because Jude was usually too shy to speak unless Clare started things. But, surprisingly, the angel took three large strides forward to look the demon directly in the eye.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, Clare,” Jude said.

“I’m sorry for yelling, too,” Clare instantly replied.

Jude gulped and slowly brought his arms forward to reveal the tiny bundle of wildflowers in his hands. It was a mixture of Cornflowers, Black-eyed Susans, and orange Butterfly weed – plants that Clare recognized from herbal studies with Rowena. The colorful bouquet took Clare by surprise. Why did Jude have them? What were they for? Jude’s lovely blue eyes bounced between Clare and the flowers, his face tinting red again.

“I picked these for you, at the park,” the angel admitted bashfully, handing them over, “I just – I didn’t know how to apologize, and I wanted to make things better, and these flowers were so pretty, which reminded me of how pretty you are, so I – I picked a bunch for you… I know, it’s kind of cheesy –”

“No,” Clare denied with a grin, “It’s not cheesy at all, Jay. I love them. Thank you.”

Jude smiled again – damn, he looked so good when he wore a smile – and blinked shyly up at Clare from under his long eyelashes.

“Can I take you home?” the angel offered.

“Yeah,” Clare nodded, reaching out to circle his arms around Jude’s shoulders, “Fly me away, Superman.”

Jude leaned forward to press his cheek to Clare’s chest and wrapped his arms around Clare’s back before flashing his grace. Clare only had time to blink once before they were standing in the middle of their living room, where sunshine was beaming through the windows and onto their hand-me-down couch. The familiar scent of his and Jude’s blended musk smelled so amazing, he practically drank it in with every breath. Ah, there was nothing like being home with his husband… Clare stamped a kiss to Jude’s warm forehead before unwinding his arms and heading toward the tiny kitchen behind him.

“I’m gonna put these in water,” he explained, gently waving the lovely bouquet as he walked.

Clare quickly grabbed a glass cup from the cabinet and filled it with water from the spout before plunging the thirsty flower stems inside. The colorful blossoms and green leaves made the kitchen look even more homey.

“I never thanked you for this house.”

Clare spun around to face his husband, seeing a pleasant smile on his freckled face. Thanked him for the house? What was Jude talking about? And why did he have that dopey look?

“What?” Clare blurted.

“This house,” Jude said again, gesturing to the worn walls, flimsy kitchen table, and faded cabinets, “You picked it out, remember? You encouraged me to move in with you, and used your money to take care of me. And I never even thanked you for it.”

Clare narrowed his eyes and leaned against the counter. Something must have happened to Jude while he was away. Did he go to a frat house and get high with some strangers or something? He sounded so much different now than he did that morning.

“What’s going on? You sound high. Are you high?” Clare questioned, “You know your parents will kill me if they found out you’ve been smoking Mary Jane –”

“No, I’m not high,” Jude giggled, shaking his head, “I just had a talk with my Grandpa and he reminded me that… that I need to be grateful for what I already have instead of whining about what I don’t.”

Clare swallowed a bit, seeing the genuine sincerity in Jude’s eyes. Damn. That was a powerful piece of advice. Chuck really knew what to say. Honestly, Clare was just relieved to know that his husband was happy again. It was all he wanted. The demon stood up from the counter and walked back over to the angel, reaching out to touch the blue plaid collar of his shirt, the tips of his ears, the sharp edge of his jaw, his warm cheeks; handling him as if he was a priceless piece of art. Because he _was_.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Clare confessed.

Jude nodded, his own hands raising up to tangle his fingers into Clare’s shaggy hair. The sensation made tingles flow down his back and arms, creating goosebumps on his skin.

“So am I,” Jude replied, “and I want to make you happy, too.”

“Well, congrats. You’ve already done it,” Clare smirked.

The two of them grinned at each other before leaning forward to join their mouths. It started out as a slow kiss; powerful and deep, full of emotion. But the more Jude’s fingers wiggled against Clare’s scalp, the closer he stepped to the angel. And the closer their bodies stood, the more blood pumped toward Clare’s dick. He could feel the stupid thing trying to get hard, but he was trying his best to tame the wild beast. Jude was probably done with sex for a while. The kid didn’t want to get his heart broken anymore, so sex wasn’t an option.

At least, that’s what Clare thought… until Jude gave a hard thrust against his front.

Clare’s eyes flew open and he grunted inside their kiss, shocked by the extremely forward action. He briefly pulled away to look down at the angel and figure out what was going on. The dopey, sweet look was still on Jude’s face, making the blood pulse faster to Clare’s nether region.

“You… you want to…?” Clare asked vaguely.

Jude hummed and nodded, his grabby fingers falling from Clare’s hair down the demon’s back to grip handfuls of his shirt. Clare gulped hard and momentarily closed his eyes. Shit. Jude wanted to try again for a baby. But, he didn’t know…

“The potion’s gone,” Clare confessed, opening his eyes to look sadly at his husband, “Bobby gave me something that took it away. I’m not human anymore, Jay. We can’t try again.”

“I don’t care about that,” Jude said, sounding absolutely serious, “I don’t want to try again. I just want _you_.”

Clare gulped before Jude’s lips came crashing against his own. It had been so long since they’d had sex _just_ to have sex – so long since they had joined their bodies for the fun of it rather than trying to get pregnant – that Clare actually felt excited. In fact, he couldn’t even remember the last time he got to witness Jude come. Jude was always so intent on getting Clare to finish that he rarely finished himself.

But that was not going to be the case this time. Clare was going to make sure of it. With his husband’s blessing, Clare bent down and scooped both arms under Jude’s ass, hoisting the guy up and making him laugh. The sound made Clare’s heart soar and his stomach float. Jude clung to Clare’s shoulders as the demon quickly carried the angel to their bedroom and flopped onto the bed with him. The mattress bounced with their weight, squeaking slightly as Clare crawled up to reconnect their mouths.

Then, clothes slowly started disappearing; getting tossed to all corners of their bedroom. Sunlight from the window shined onto their naked bodies, making them almost glow as they tumbled around in bed together. Clare and Jude were half wrestling, half making love; playfully tickling each other, groping, kissing, rubbing, rolling – anything just to touch. Clare tried to press his lips to each and every freckle he laid his eyes on, peppering Jude’s whole body with wet, sloppy kisses. He sucked Jude’s dick for a bit too, enjoying the sight of the angel writhing in pleasure above him. But the urge to kiss Jude’s mouth carried him away back up to the angel’s sweaty face. They made out passionately as Clare jerked Jude’s stiff cock, humming and muttering each other’s names.

It wasn’t long before Jude dug out the bottle of lube and handed it to Clare, silently asking to be readied. Clare did his best, taking his time to open Jude up with his fingers while the angel whimpered. For reasons Clare couldn’t fathom, Jude liked being penetrated. It was the kid’s favorite way to have sex. Clare personally hated having a dick in his own ass – because all the shit he had to go through as a teenager put a bad taste in his mouth – but if Jude liked it, he would happily supply the guy with all the dick he wanted. With Jude on his back, Clare gently pushed in, thrusting slowly to massaging Jay with each movement. Jude clung to the headboard and groaned beautifully, filling the room with the erotic sound. Clare stroked Jude’s dick too, using some leftover lube to slick the friction. He wasn’t going to stop until he saw those beautiful white ribbons fly across their stomachs.

With Jude’s legs tossed over his shoulders, Clare plowed into him, moving so fast and hard that their bed – once again – smacked against the wall. Clare braced his free hand on it, pausing the sound as he rose his husband to an orgasm. Jude curled inward, clawing desperately at Clare’s back and gasping for air before he finally tipped over the edge. Snow white splatters painted the angel’s abdomen as he panted and moaned, creating a beautiful image. Clare almost instantly followed suit, pulsing into Jude’s warm body with vigor. Their cries blended and harmonized before they both fell silent, cuddling each other while their bodies relaxed.

Clare didn’t want to let go. He wanted to lay their forever in Jude’s arms, bathed in warm sunlight, surrounded by their soft sheets and pillows, with Jude’s heartbeat hammering against his ear. He could have listened to that sound until the end of time…

* * *

Jude lay tangled up in bed with Clare for several minutes, just feeling his body relax in the comfort of his own home. He softly petted Clare’s blonde hair, feeling each soft strand caress his fingertips. It seemed like Clare fell asleep as soon as they were done, but Jude stayed awake to reflect on all the things he heard his Grandpa Chuck talk about. ‘ _I know you’ve had trouble embracing who you really are, Jude, but there’s nothing to be afraid of._ ’ What did that mean? Was he referring to the fact that Jude hated his grace? How was he supposed to be himself when his self was so scary and destructive?

Jude’s thoughts eventually led him back to the day before, when the family was gathered in the study, talking about their individual experiences with making babies. Michael’s was the only one that truly haunted Jude. ‘ _My grace is deadly. It’s lethal_ ,’ the archangel said. So was Jude’s. Yet, Michael was able to conceive his daughter. All he had to do was go to a secluded place and bring out his grace... ‘ _Be yourself_ ,’ Grandpa said, ‘ _Be yourself_ …’

With his heart pounding, Jude carefully flew himself out from under Clare to stand up. The demon slumped carefully onto the bed, snoozing peacefully among the sheets and pillows. Jude quickly grabbed his pants and thrust them on, not even bothering with his shirt. He wanted to try something, and he had to do it quickly while Clare’s seed was still fresh… The angel closed his eyes and pictured a place he remembered hunting with his parents. It was a forest that some werewolves had occupied in the mountains of Wyoming, way out in the middle of nowhere. When Jude opened his eyes again, he was there, standing in the midst of huge trees, ferns, and flowers, with the blue sky above the treetops.

“Okay,” Jude squeaked, feeling the urge to give himself a pep talk before he freaked out, “I’m gonna be myself… My _real_ self... The one I’ve always been afraid of… I can do it… Grandpa said I could…”

Jude started by taking a large breath to steady himself. Then, he knelt down, feeling the dead leaves and pine needles with his fingers to keep himself grounded. And for the first time in his life, Jude closed his eyes and openly embraced his celestial grace. His _whole_ grace. He felt the light shine through his skin, burst from his limbs, and ignite his eyeballs. He could feel the potent glow burning the dead leaves to ashes under his hands as his grace grew and grew. The air around him was whistling like a boiling kettle, shaking as if its molecular make up was being challenged. Jude felt like the sun itself, burning and consuming everything around him.

But he could feel the foreign substance sitting inside his light. Clare’s seed was still there, balancing in the center of Jude’s grace like a fragile egg on a pillow. Though he had never been familiar with his own grace, Jude tried his best to cradle the fluid as delicately as he could. He didn’t want to obliterate it, like Crowley said. Jude wanted to _merge_ with it; to create life. Using the restorative technique he learned from his Papa, Jude used his grace’s healing property to absorb the fluid. It almost felt like he was clasping the liquid from all angles, carefully surrounding it with his light. As it condensed, Jude could feel each and every individual sperm cell wiggling in his grasp. So he tried his best to choose one among the group to merge with. His grace bared down on the spot – and an electric jolt echoed through him.

The sensation of the spark scared Jude so much that he immediately started to stuff his grace back into his body. The whistling stopped, the light slowly faded out, and Jude opened his eyes to fill his lungs with air. The ground around him and under his knees and hands was charcoal black, like it had been burnt by an electrical storm... But behind Jude’s knees, his stomach was glowing. Even though he had put his grace away, it remained around his belly button, shining faintly. Jude wanted to get excited, but he was worried. What if it was a false pregnancy, just like the last? There was only one way to know for sure.

“Papa,” Jude prayed.

* * *

“So, how do you like being human?”

Castiel heard Gabriel’s question, but didn’t pay it any attention. The angel was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance of the kitchen doorway, waiting to hear any news from his son and son-in-law. Near him, Gabriel was sitting at the table with Charlie in his arms, speaking with Meg, who sat across from him. Dean was standing at the coffee maker, listening to the conversation as Gabriel and Meg spoke.

“I don’t,” Meg replied, “All this needing to eat and sleep bullshit sucks.”

“Ha!” Gabriel scoffed, “Try being human _and_ pregnant. It’s much worse.”

Two sharp waves rippled across the angel radio, stopping Castiel in his tracks. His hand instantly shot up to the side of his head where he held it in pain. What was that? It felt like a comet had flown through his mind. At the table, Gabriel was also cradling his head.

“Ow!” the archangel groaned, raising his head to share a look of concern with Castiel, “What the hell was that?”

“What?” Dean asked, suddenly alert, “Did something happen?”

Castiel struggled to come up with an explanation for his husband. He had never felt that particular sensation before. What ever happened was brand new, something that had never crossed the celestial wavelengths. Within seconds, Michael appeared in the kitchen, appearing just as confused as he glanced between his brothers.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“Yeah, we felt it,” Gabriel answered, “We were just sitting here and –”

“ _Papa_ …”

Castiel nearly gasped at the sound of his son’s voice. It had traveled from very far away; a place that Castiel did not expect. Why wasn’t Jude at Bobby’s? It sounded like Jude’s voice was coming from farther northwest. Without a word, the angel flew from the bunker and toward his son’s call. His feet landed on solid ground – and at last, the air was stolen from his lungs.

Jude was naked and crouching in a large black crater, surrounded by ash. It looked like he was in the middle of a blast zone. Fallen trees surrounded the outer rim of the crater, which spanned at least half a mile in all directions. What seemed to have been a forest was now only charred earth in the space that held Jude. Castiel immediately raced toward his child, fearing that something terrible had happened to him.

“Jude,” Castiel breathed, immediately shrugging off his coat and falling to his knees to cover his child with it, “Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt? Where are your clothes?”

“Papa, look,” Jude said calmly.

The boy raised up and revealed that his stomach was alight with grace. Castiel blinked between Jude’s face and glowing stomach, feeling a shift in his emotions. Had he done it? Did Jude finally conceive the child he had been trying so desperately to have?

“I think it happened,” Jude said, “But I don’t know for sure…”

Castiel gulped and brought his own hand forth to place it against his son’s flat stomach. Using his own grace, Castiel carefully felt Jude’s, delicately shifting around the light for any solid objects… and there it was. A group of rapidly multiplying cells huddled together in the midst of Jude’s grace. They were spreading fast, laying the foundations for human life right there among his pure light.

A tear slipped from Cas’s eye as he blinked them open to smile at his son. Jude’s precious face held an expression of cautious optimism, waiting patiently to hear confirmation of his hope. And Castiel was overjoyed to be the one to supply him with the answer.

“Congratulations, son,” Castiel breathed, “You’re going to be a father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yay_!!! It finally happened! :D About time, right? ;D I know I’ve mentioned this over and over, but I always feel the need to say it again in case it seems out of place: My version of Chuck is far different than the one from the show. And I hope that his incarnation of him makes you as happy as it makes me. ;) Jude really needed that talk. Hell, I think _all of us_ need it sometimes. We humans are prone to focusing so much on the bad things that we forget all the good, but it’s always helpful to take a step back and really be thankful for what we already have. :) (And I am overwhelmingly grateful for you!) :) Likewise, Clare needed that talk with his old man, Bobby. Singer always knows what to say to comfort his boys. ;) I’m not so good with the medical or science jargon, but I hope that the description of how Jude was able to conceive made at least a little sense. (If not, I can try to explain it better in the next chapter.) Jude’s grace is powerful enough to incinerate everything around him, including his clothes, which is why he was nakey at the end there. Lol. (Kinda like how the Terminator shows up.) XD I hope that this chapter brought you comfort and smiles! Because next week, the angst will begin. *evil giggle* ;D Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on ya. (At first) ;D Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and especially for coming this far in the story! I cannot praise you guys enough for putting up with me for so long! You’re all saints in my eyes! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	6. Chapter 6

A double explosion rippled through the angel radio like a couple of live firecrackers being tossed down an elevator shaft. The sensation echoed off the walls of every angel’s mind, alerting them to the danger of a new creation coming into being. The commotion infected the angels with fear, shaking the last few remaining celestial beings into a panic… But _Lucifer_ found it just the sort of distraction he needed.

The fallen archangel knew it would only be a matter of time before those horny Winchester brats mated their way into a new species. He often wondered why those hairless apes even wore pants, given how much they took them off to screw everything that moved. The main thing Lucifer hated about the damn Winchesters was their ability to convince Castiel and Gabriel – two of his most beloved siblings – to not only fornicate with them, but also carry their worthless, vile, abominable offspring. Lucifer was astonished that his own brothers could allow themselves to be so corrupted by their father’s foul creation. Humans were not equal to angels. They were below them. Sam and Dean were nothing more than vessels meant contain Lucifer and Michael on earth. Yet, Castiel and Gabriel – and even Michael, at this point – seemed ready and willing to hand over their own precious lives for those animals. How breathtakingly pathetic…

At last, their little group had finally grown bored of screwing each other and found something new to impregnate, because the shockwave of its creation had just swung through the celestial wavelengths like a homerun hit. Lucifer had been expecting it to happen ever since he left earth – and was immediately taken hostage again. Being the father of all demons, Lucifer knew one when he felt it, and this new creature was definitely demonic. At least, a touch. And while there were a few demons that messed around with the Winchesters, only one of them would have been able to procreate with a nephilim. It was easy enough to put two and two together.

Half-demon pansy, plus over-powered nephilim brat, equaled horrid abomination.

The notion brought a smile to Lucifer’s face. Not because they had messed around and – oops! – created an entirely new species, which would probably immerge as a mutated freak, like something out of God’s own nightmares. No, the reason the devil smiled was because that Nephilim – the one who had obliterated Darkness from the universe and had God in his back pocket – was now pregnant. Knocked up. Unable to use his full grace. Most importantly, it meant that the only being that stood a chance against Lucifer was now incapacitated. Unless that Nephilim wanted to burn out his own offspring, which seemed highly unlikely, given how much those Winchesters cuddled their tiny monsters, he wouldn’t be able to fight with that ridiculously powerful grace. Lucifer was now free to do what he needed to do, because there would be no one strong enough to stop him. _Finally_.

The handful of angels left guarding Heaven’s gate found the double firecracker event unnerving in every way. They grouped together to discuss the phenomenon, briefly leaving the only way in and out of heaven slightly agape. And Lucifer, who always kept one eye on the door for that very reason, stole the opportunity to blast his way out. Being able to openly use his grace for the first time in several millenniums felt simply _amazing_. He felt so energized and free that he almost decided to pin-ball around the universe just because he could. But he didn’t. While wasting away in prison, Lucifer had given himself a mission. He wasn’t headed to earth. Mankind wasn’t his target anymore. No, he had a much bigger fish to fry. A bigger score to settle than any he’d had before. With his scarlet grace, Lucifer flew himself out of the stronghold of Heaven and went to a different plane of existence altogether. It was a place no living being had ever seen, yet his grace knew exactly where to find it. Lucifer wasn’t quite sure what to expect when he arrived there, but it sure as hell wasn’t the cathedral-high corridors of folder-stocked shelves that greeted him. Miles and miles of information stored in books and scrolls, like some kind of dark library. Geez, did every being in the universe really have to mimic the design of humanity? Did no one have at least a little bit of originality?

“Lucifer.”

The devil grinned and spun around at the sound of the lovely feminine voice that called his name. There, sitting at a black desk with her arms folded, was the dark figure of Death. But Death looked much different than the half-rotten corpse Lucifer remembered from their last encounter. This Death was new – and oh-so very _sexy_.

“Well. Hello there,” Lucifer purred as he sauntered up to the desk, “Last time I saw Death, he looked like a shriveled up old apple core. But you, honey… You look _fresh_. So round, and juicy, and just waiting to be _bitten into_ –”

“And you look like a snake that needs beheaded,” Death interrupted, her voice calm and eyes narrowed, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t grab you by the ear and drag you back to your father.”

Any sweet talk Lucifer had left in his mouth instantly dissolved. The very thought of his Father dragging him back ‘home’ pissed him off. He would almost rather be locked away in that miserable cage in Hell than be confined to Heaven again…

“Whoa,” Lucifer began, raising both of his hands defensively, “There’s no need to get all tense. Relax. I’m not here to start trouble. I just want to speak with you.”

At first, it seemed like Death didn’t want to hear it. She rolled her chair back, stood up so that she was eye-level with Lucifer, and planted both hands on her voluptuous hips.

“Speak with _you_? The last time someone listened to what you had to say, this job was created,” she spat, gesturing toward the innumerable columns of shelves that stretched farther than his own sight could see, “All of this death, just because you convinced a naïve girl to eat some fruit.”

“Well, you’re not a naïve girl,” Lucifer pointed out in a purring tone, “And I’m not here to make you eat anything. I only want to borrow something from you.”

That little nugget of information seemed to entice her to listen. The argument that had been teetering on the edge of her tongue halted and her dark eyes narrowed even more. The sight made Lucifer’s smirk unravel into a full grin. He almost had her…

“You can’t have anything from me,” Death said firmly, though curiosity was hidden in her tone.

“I don’t want to take anything from you. Only borrow,” he corrected, “And once I’m done with it, I’ll give it right back. See? I’m reasonable.”

The more he talked around what the item was, the more it seemed to tantalize Death. Her eyes continued to narrow further and further into such a tight glare that Lucifer wasn’t sure if she could see him at all.

“… The scythe,” she guessed, to Lucifer’s great surprise, “You want the scythe… Who are you trying to reap?”

Lucifer was slightly disappointed that Death was able to guess his plan before he had time to reveal it, but at least he could still wow her with the answer she wanted. At first, Lucifer wasn’t sure if he should reveal the truth to her. But, then again, maybe she would side with him once she heard it. Though it was against his every instinct to be honest, Lucifer gave in and spoke it out loud.

“The one who cast me out of my own home,” he breathed, feeling his own teeth grit, “The one who banished me from the garden. Made me fight my own brother. Locked me in a cage. And when my brother set me free, had me shoved into an even bigger, gated cage. The one who’s _really_ responsible for all of this death…”

Death’s mouth fell open and her eyes finally widened.

“… God,” she exhaled.

“That’s right,” Lucifer nodded, managing to regain a touch of his grin, “I’m gonna reap God. And, trust me, _you_ want it too. Just think: As soon as he’s gone, you can leave this job. You can go find a little corner of the universe to have all to yourself and not have to worry about all these useless souls. Can you imagine that amount of freedom?”

“No.”

“Well, now you have the opportunity to –”

“ _No_ ,” Death said again, louder this time as her glare returned, “Boy, you’ve finally lost your damn mind. My scythe stays where it is. God stays where he is. You go back home. And we will never speak of this again.”

Lucifer exhaled and dramatically hung his head to blink at the checkered marble on the floor. Damn. He was afraid that she might say that. He was really hoping to gain an ally in this fight, but it looked like he would be doing things solo. Just like he always had…

“Well. That’s too bad. I was about to ask you to dinner and everything,” Lucifer hissed, raising his head to reveal his own glowing red eyes, “I guess we’ll have to cut right to the part where I take what I want.”

Death’s glare simmered into a determined look just before the devil lunged at her. With his full set of grace open, Lucifer blasted Death over and pinned her to the floor by the throat. She groaned out and clutched his hold, maintaining her glare even though he had her held down. Lucifer knew that he wouldn’t be able to kill her – not without that weapon of hers – but he would be able to make her feel all the pain of wishing she was dead. He started by burning her pretty neck, making the flesh sizzle under his grasp. Death’s dark eyes widened in shock but she couldn’t suck in a breath to scream. She only glared up into the glow of his scarlet grace and yanked at his hand. It felt good to cause pain, but he didn’t want to cause _her_ pain. He was still hoping that she would see things his way.

“ _Shhh_. Stop squirming, little Raven. I don’t want to hurt you,” Lucifer purred, petting her face with his free hand, “I just want to know where your scythe is. Is it in your desk? Some kind of filing cabinet? In the – ?”

Before his next sentence was out, Death disappeared into a puff of black smoke. Lucifer fell forward onto the marble floor, clutching nothing but air. She was gone! Death had disappeared right out from under him! And the realization that he was suddenly alone again made Lucifer shout and smash both fists hard on the marble floor, shattering the checkered black and white pattern into pieces. Dammit! How was he supposed to find her now? After taking a few harsh breaths and pulling his grace away, Lucifer stood back up to glare at the empty desk.

“Run while you can, sweetheart,” he said softly, “I’ll get it sooner or later…”

* * *

“Clare!”

The delighted tone that Jay used startled Clarence right out of his nap. The demon instantly raised his head and looked around their bright bedroom, feeling the bedsheets under his bare skin. Why wasn’t Jude there? Clare thought he had just fallen asleep on top of the guy. Then, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulder and shook him from the other side.

“Clare! It worked!” Jude beamed, “Look! It worked!”

It took several more seconds for Clare to realize that he was staring up at his excited husband. Jude was kneeling on the bed next to Clare, wearing a tan coat that looked just like Cas’s, but holding it open to reveal his flat stomach. Clare’s sight dropped to Jude’s belly – where a subtle white glow surrounded the skin. As soon as he saw it, Clare sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“W – wait, what?” he said, reaching out to touch his husband’s abdomen and feel the warmth, “Wait, is that – ?”

“I’m pregnant!” Jude exhaled, face full of tears and a smile.

Clare was absolutely stunned. Pregnant? For real? But, how?! They didn’t even have sex with Jude’s grace! How could he have gotten pregnant when they were just having normal sex? Clare wasn’t trying to get Jude pregnant, he thought they were just enjoying each other’s bodies! The memory of what happened a few months earlier suddenly hit Clare like a mac truck. Uh-oh. What if it was another false pregnancy? What if Jude was getting excited for nothing?

“Are – are you sure?” Clare asked as delicately as possible.

“Yes. I confirmed it.”

The sound of Castiel’s deep voice caused Clare to nearly jump out of bed. The angel was standing across the room, only wearing his black suit and blue tie. His trench coat was currently on Jude – and the whole scene made Clare feel embarrassed and confused.

“What the hell?!” the demon barked at Cas in bewilderment as he pulled the bedsheets farther over his naked body, “What are _you_ doing here?! How long have you been standing there?!”

“It’s okay, Clare. Papa just felt the baby,” Jude said.

The word ‘baby’ struck Clare very differently. It instantly melted his embarrassment away and brought his eyes squarely back on Jude’s wet and grinning face. Holy shit… A _baby_ … And it was _real_ , this time. Clare and Jude were going to have a baby. Clare was going to be a _dad_ …

“Holy shit…” Clare exhaled, feeling like he had the wind knocked out of him, “The… Baby?”

Jude laughed – that high-pitched giggle that Clare adored – and nodded furiously. He grabbed Clare’s hand and placed it against his own glowing stomach, where the light felt so warm. Of course, Clare couldn’t feel anything but his husband’s body, but that didn’t stop him from getting anxious. Somewhere inside that light, his kid was being made. A little ball of dough was rising into a bun in Jude’s oven…

“Holy shit,” Clare said again, smiling this time as he felt moisture gather in his own eyes, “Are – are you really sure?”

“Yes,” Cas answered for Jude, looking so proud, “Life is being created in Jude’s grace as we speak. I felt it with my own.”

Clare blinked at his father-in-law – who looked really out of place in Jude and Clare’s bedroom – before turning back to Jude. Jay was already starting to climb off the bed and tug Clare’s arm.

“Come on. Let’s get dressed and go tell everybody else,” he beamed.

“Whoa, Jay. Hold on. I’m not getting out of this bed until your old man leaves,” Clare stated, giving Cas a side-ways look.

Jude also paused to look at Cas, and the older angel bashfully glanced at the floor and took a few steps back.

“Right. My apologies,” he mumbled, “I will meet you at the bunker.”

“Wait,” Jude called.

Clare and Cas both watched as Jude quickly grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on under the coat. Once he had some pants on, Jude shrugged out of the trench coat and tossed it to Cas.

“See you in a few minutes, Pop,” he promised warmly.

Castiel beamed at his son as he slipped his coat back on, looking happier than Clare had ever seen him. The angel disappeared after that, leaving Clare and Jude alone in their bedroom. Clare’s eyes immediately gravitated back to Jude’s stomach and the faint light shining from it. ‘ _A baby’_ , he thought again, ‘ _we’re going to have a baby’_ …

Clare stood up from the bed and walked over to put his arms on Jude’s bare shoulders. He wanted to tell him how excited he was, and that he was so glad that Jude could finally be a parent like he always wanted, and that he was really nervous and scared but absolutely thrilled at the same time. But all of those words were struggling to get out all at once and it rendered him unable to say much of anything.

“Jude… I… I’m so…” Clare stuttered.

“I know,” Jude sniffled, still crying with a smile, “Me too.”

The husbands laughed together for a second before wrapping each other into a hug. Clare was overjoyed that they would finally be able to start their own little family – to have a _baby_ – but more than anything, he was glad that Jude was finally getting the one thing he had tried so hard to have. The half-decorated nursery could finally be finished. Their home was going to be complete.

But first, they needed to spread the news, and Jude wanted to get to the bunker before his papa spilled the beans. Clare and Jude instantly got dressed before Jude flew them to the bunker. Clare noticed that his husband seemed a little woozy once they landed in one of the bunker hallways. It was barely noticeable; just a split second in which Jude blinked several times and steadied himself. But before Clare could ask if he was okay, Jude grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall.

“Come on, I hear them in the kitchen,” he explained.

Clare stumbled along with his husband’s guiding hand, allowing the excited guy to pull him all the way into the crowded room. Dean, Cas, Meg, Gabriel, Jessica – holding Charlie – and Michael were all standing there, talking about a phenomenon on the radio or something when Jude and Clare blasted inside. When everyone turned to look at them, Jude lifted his shirt with a wild grin.

“We’re going to have a baby!” he sang.

Nearly everyone in the kitchen shouted their congratulations and came to wrap their arms around Jude and Clare. But Clare noticed that Michael didn’t move. The archangel stayed back and watched the family gather lovingly from the counter; his gray eyes filled with a sense of apprehension. Clare studied Michael from the few yards’ distance, feeling anxiousness creep into his thoughts. Why wasn’t he congratulating Jude like everyone else? And why did he have that worried look on his face?

“Jude, Oh my gosh! I’m so happy for you! You’re gonna be such a good daddy!” Jessica praised, shifting Charlie into one arm so that she could hug Jude with her other.

“I’m proud of you for not giving up, little man,” Dean added.

“Look at you, lil’ sidekick! You’re glowing and everything!” Gabe winked, “Say, are you sure it’s – ?”

“Yes, he is truly carrying a fetus,” Cas interrupted, “I felt it myself.”

“Aaaand I’m pretty sure I’ve heard everything, now,” Meg sighed from the back.

“Well, come in, boys. Have you a seat,” Dean offered, gently shoving others out of the way to clear a path to the table.

Jude gently guided Clare to the vacant seats, but Clare had a hard time taking his eyes away from the archangel across the room. The concerned look on Michael’s face was kind of starting to piss Clare off. Why couldn’t he just be happy for his nephew, like the rest of the family? Was he really going to be petty and jealous? …Or was there something else?

“What’s the matter with you?” Clare eventually blurted.

His bold question turned the jubilant atmosphere a little more serious as he and Michael met eyes. The archangel’s eyes briefly flickered between Clare and Jude before he spoke.

“Nothing,” he said carefully, “I am happy for you.”

“But?” Clare prompted.

Everyone else in the room might as well have been watching a game of tennis, because their heads turned back and forth from Clare to Michael in unison. The archangel exhaled and leaned a hand against the counter.

“… But,” he repeated, “The creation of your offspring echoed through celestial wavelengths. I believe you’ve unintentionally created a new species.”

“You mean, what we felt,” Gabriel said, “That was a new species bursting into the universe?”

Michael nodded, and for some reason, Clare’s blood ran cold. A new species? Was that a bad thing? Was their kid going to be deformed or something?

“How?” Dean asked, “Clare’s human right now.”

“Actually,” Jude spoke up to say, his face bright pink as he glanced sheepishly between his husband and his parents, “The potion’s gone. Bobby gave him an antidote or something. Clare was a demon when we – when _it_ happened…”

“Holy moose balls,” Gabe muttered, “How the hell did you manage to make a baby like that?”

Clare, also, looked to his bashful husband for the answer. Clare had no idea how Jude was able to conceive a child without bringing his grace out during sex. Jude’s baby-blues eventually worked their way up to meet Clare’s stare and he spoke toward Clare alone.

“After we did it and you fell asleep, I flew off and… and I brought out all my grace,” Jude explained, “All of it. So much that I nearly nuked Wyoming off the map. And it worked.”

Clare’s jaw dangled open. The image in his head of Jude – his precious, bashful, sweet little Blue-Jay – ‘nuking Wyoming off the map’ was utterly surreal. Clare knew Jude had some power, but damn. Not enough to blast an entire state out of existence. How could Clare have slept through that? Michael seemed to take the info as confirmation of his worries.

“That must have been when we felt it,” he explained.

“Okay,” Dean said, “So, what’s so wrong about a new species being made?”

“Nothing… that we know of,” Michael replied, “We will just need to be very cautious.”

“Cautious?” Jude repeated, his eyes narrowing as his hand dropped to his stomach protectively, “It’s just a baby.”

“So were you, once. Now look what you can do,” Michael said.

“No. You know what? Jude’s right,” Dean suddenly spat toward the archangel, “Cas and I had to deal with this ‘what if’ crap when Jude was born, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Dean –”

“No, Cas. I won’t let him go through it,” Dean defended.

“Mikey might have a point,” Gabe said, “I mean, what if there’s something wrong with the baby because it’s half demon?”

“And what’s wrong with being a demon?” Meg asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not exactly the holiest choice,” Gabe replied.

“Gabriel, please stop antagonizing Meg,” Cas snapped.

All of the arguing started to eat away at Clare. He loved the Winchesters with every ounce of his soul and hearing them fight just made him sick. After giving his husband’s hand a squeeze, the demon got up and darted for the refrigerator. He was hoping to get away from the loud conversation and focus on something other than the fact that there might have been something wrong with his unborn child. Thankfully, a fresh jug of Sunny D was sitting on the second shelf. As Clare got it out and went to find a glass to put it in, he heard things starting to settle down behind him.

“Please,” Jude shouted over the noise, his voice warm and calm, “Now you guys have me worried. Do you really think there might be something wrong with the baby?”

Clare sat an empty glass on the counter and glanced up as he unscrewed the cap from the jug. Castiel stepped forward with a look of determination.

“I can check the fetus’s development if you would like, son,” he offered.

Without hesitation, Jude nodded and lifted his shirt again, revealing his faintly glowing stomach. Castiel immediately knelt on the floor in front of Jude and placed his own glowing hand against Jude’s flat stomach, making the light even brighter. Clare slowly started to pour himself a drink as he watched, anxious to hear what Castiel would have to say.

“Why don’t you check for the gender while you’re at it,” Gabe scoffed.

Clare knew that Gabe was joking. There was no way that Castiel could figure out the baby’s gender just by feeling it with his glow. That is, until a look of surprise crossed Jude’s face.

“Can you really do that, Papa?” he asked.

Castiel didn’t speak. He only closed his eyes and prodded Jude’s stomach with his shiny hand. Clare didn’t care what his child was. Boy, girl, demon, angel – he didn’t care. He only wanted it to be happy and healthy, without any deformities.

“… I can,” Cas eventually stated.

Clare’s heart skipped a beat when Jude’s eyes met his across the kitchen. Holy shit! Cas knew what gender their baby was!

“Is – is it a boy or a girl?” Jude breathed.

Cas’s eyebrows scrunched as he moved his hand firmly against Jude’s skin. But he was taking so long to answer that Gabriel got impatient.

“Come on, Cassie, we wanna know,” the archangel said as he gently kicked at Cas’s foot, “X chromosomes or Y?”

Castiel gulped.

“Both.”

Again, Clare met eyes with Jude. Both? How could the baby have both genders? Oh, shit, maybe it really was deformed! Oh, God! What had they done?!

“The baby has both?!” Jude breathed nervously.

“No,” Castiel said, finally opening his eyes to reveal the deep ocean blue, “There is a set of X. And a separate set of Y… Two different groups… Two different fetuses... Both seem to be forming without a flaw.”

There were a few audible gasps in the room that Clare assumed came from Jessica and Gabriel. He wasn’t sure, though, because the moment he heard the number two, the jug of Sunny D slipped out of his grip and splashed orange juice everywhere. He attempted to grab it again, but his hand accidently bumped it over and poured the liquid into the floor around his boots – which then became slippery and caused him to lose his footing. His feet slid out from under him, bringing him down hard on his ass. Clare sat on the wet kitchen floor and blinked for a few seconds, feeling the cold, sticky liquid sinking into his clothing and hair.

Strangely enough, Clare’s mind wasn’t concerned with the pain radiating from his tailbone or the fact that he had just made a complete fool of himself in front of his family. The only thing he could think about was the number two. _Two_. Two fetuses. Two babies. _Twins_. Jude and Clare were going to have _twins_. Not one baby. But two. A boy _and_ a girl…

The sound of hurried footsteps dragged Clare out of his stupor. He looked up just in time to see worry mix in with the happiness on Jude’s pale face.

“Clare? Are you okay?” he asked.

Clare couldn’t answer. Instead, he just smiled and held both arms out for his husband as hot tears rolled down his face. Jude all but fell onto the floor with him, happily collapsing into Clare’s arms so that they could cry and smile and cling to each other like gleeful little kids. Clare was sure that the rest of the people in the room were surrounding and watching them, but he didn’t care. He was too overwhelmingly ecstatic to be anything except _happy_.

* * *

The sight of her cousin and his husband hugging and crying joyfully on the floor brought tears to Jessica’s eyes. She clung to her own baby, stamping a kiss to the side of Charlie’s sweet-scented head, as she watched two of her best friends revel in the delight of being pregnant with twins. _Twins_! Jude had waited so long for a baby of his own, and how he was going to have two at once. Jess was so happy for him!

Next to her, Dean and Cas were clinging to each other and smiling, too; eyes glistening along with everyone else. The sight of so many happy faces made her want to share this moment with her own husband, who was busy helping Dad in the garage. Jess’s Papa caught her eyes and shared an understanding look.

“Let’s go get them,” he said.

Jess sniffled and took one last look at Jude and Clare hugging in the puddle of juice on the floor before following her Papa out of the kitchen. On the way into the hall, Jess nuzzled her face into Charlie’s neck, making the baby giggle.

“You hear that, Charlie? You’re gonna have two little cousins to play with!” Jess hummed.

The sound of Charlie’s baby giggle echoed down the tiled hallway as Jess and her Papa started for the bunker garage – but it stopped short when a puff of black smoke erupted in front of them. Jess squeaked and hugged her baby, feeling Pop jump in front of her. At first, Jess thought that the smoke would drift away to reveal Crowley and Rowena – two people that she planned to bark at for scaring her so badly.

But the figure that appeared on the floor wasn’t one that Jess had ever seen before. It was a dark woman dressed in all black. Her throat looked severely damaged; almost like a handprint had been burned deep into her skin. Muscles and arteries in her neck were visible as she crawled toward Jess and her Pop. Jessica covered Charlie’s face with her hand, shielding the baby from the disturbing sight.

“B – Billie?” Papa asked, “What the hell happened to you?!”

Jess was glad to hear the tone of surprise and worry in her Papa’s voice. He not only knew who this person was, but feared for her safety. On the floor and struggling to breathe, Billie held out a trembling hand – where a large, heavy looking scythe appeared in her grasp. She held out the big object toward Jess and her Papa, sight set on Papa’s golden eyes.

“Take… it…” she wheezed, vocal cords visibly straining, “Keep it… away from… Lucifer…”

It looked like she was about to say something else, but her eyes started to roll back. They eventually closed and she dropped to the floor like dead weight, making the scythe clang loudly on the tile. Jessica panicked. She couldn’t let a stranger die! Not on the floor of her own home! Jess shifted Charlie around to her other hip and was about to lean down and help the woman when Papa caught her by the arm.

“No! Don’t touch her,” Papa warned.

“What? Why not?!” Jess snapped, “Pop, she could be dying!”

“No, she’s not,” Papa assured, “She can’t die. It looks like she’s just passed out.”

“She _can’t_ die?” Jess repeated, “What do you mean? Who is she?” 

Papa didn’t answer at first. He let out a great big sigh before bending down to pick up the scythe from the floor. He seemed anxious to be holding it; like it was something bad that he wanted nothing to do with. But his large golden eyes eventually found Jess again and he nodded his head toward the lady in the floor.

“That’s Death,” he explained, “She can kill any human with a single touch. This is her scythe. It’s the most powerful weapon in the universe… and if she’s willing to hand it over to _us_ to keep it out of Lucifer’s hands, then he must have really scared the shit out of her…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWINS. Yes, Jude and Clare are having _twins_. A boy and a girl. How about that? XD Clare went into his nap perfectly happy just being Jude’s husband, and when he woke up, he was suddenly the father of two impending children. Life moves fast, doesn’t it? XD You know, in a different world, (possibly an AU,) I would totally ship Lucifer and Billie. ;D Unfortunately, in this fic, Luci’s going to be a complete douchebag, so that’s kind of off the table. XD You probably weren’t expecting to go inside Lucifer’s pov, were you? Me either. Lol. XD But I felt like I needed to explain his motives in this story as best as I could, and letting him explain it was just easier. So, angst, here we come. XD But I promise more fluff will be on the way, too. ;) Guys, I can’t thank you enough for following this story for so long, especially when it gets rough (or just plain silly. Lol) I love you all so much, and I’m so glad to have you for readers.) :) Thank you so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Sam Winchester could put up with a lot of things. Listening to Dean click a pen over and over while he tried to read something? Annoying, but tolerable. Hallucinating Lucifer singing ‘Stairway to Heaven’ fifty times in a row? Infuriating, but he survived it. Being boarder line tortured by Gabriel’s never-ending pranks on an almost daily basis? Sam had endured even that. This, however – listening to Oliver Thompson complain about the argument he had with Sam’s daughter over whether to move out of the bunker or not – was starting to be too much. Sam was finally considering tapping out…

“So then, I was like, ‘we really need to get a place of our own.’ And Jess was all, ‘Charlie can have her own room here.’ And that sounds like a good idea, until you factor in all the hunting stuff,” Oliver huffed, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, man. I love hunting with you guys. But it’s not something I want my daughter to be around.”

The broom in Sam’s hand came to a complete stop as he raised his head to give the kid a flat look.

“Gee. I have no idea how that feels,” he spat.

Despite Sam’s heavily sarcastic comment, Oliver took it as genuine.

“It’s terrifying!” the redhead replied as he stacked some boxes in the corner, “I mean, I never know what’s going to happen next around here. What if Charlie gets hurt by something? And I know there’s a lot of space here, but what if we want to have more kids?”

Sam gulped and closed his eyes. Oh, God. _More_ kids? An image flashed in his mind of a huge army of ginger children rushing up to him and calling him ‘Grandpa.’ A sea of baby rabbits would slowly engulf the entire bunker, making it impossible to move from room to room without encountering at least three at a time. Of course, if that were to happen, Sam would love them all. But the idea still haunted him…

“We can’t keep them all here,” Oliver continued, unaware of Sam’s horrified expression, “I want to have my own place, you know? Somewhere I can build a fort in the backyard. And we can have windows that let in sunlight. A place where Jess and I can have sex wherever we –”

“ _Oliver_ ,” Sam barked, finally halting the kid’s rambling, “I’m gonna have to stop you right there. I know I said you could talk to me about anything, but having sex with my daughter doesn’t count, okay?”

Oliver’s face turned almost as red as his hair. The kid gulped and looked away bashfully, as if he just realized that he had said something extremely private out loud.

“Oh… Right… S – sorry,” he mumbled, “It’s just… I don’t like arguing with her. But I want to stand my ground too, you know?”

Sam took a deep breath and braced both hands on the top of the broom handle, finally turning to completely face his son-in-law. As awkward as this conversation was, Sam felt the need to comfort Ollie. Or at least share some advice about marital arguments.

But his words were stolen when Gabe burst into the room. Sam’s husband popped out of thin air next to the impala and dashed over to grab hold of Sam’s arm and look up at him with large golden eyes.

“Sam, we’ve got trouble.”

Sam could tell just from the lack of playfulness in Gabe’s voice – as well as the fact that he used Sam’s real name and not something from the usual list of ridiculous pet names – that something serious had happened. He and Oliver shared a look of concern, but before either could ask what happened, Gabe was dragging Sam out of the garage and down the hall. Oliver followed along with a bewildered yet worried look.

“See? This is the kind of stuff I’m talking about,” the guy said under his breath.

Sam couldn’t deny that Oliver had a good point. Between the hunting stuff, angel stuff, demon stuff, or just Gabe being Gabe, something was always happening at the bunker. And this time, it seemed bad. Gabe didn’t say a word as he led the way down the labyrinth of hallways until the three of them came upon the scene.

Laying on the floor of the corridor was none other than Billie. Her neck was severely burned, her eyes were closed, and it looked like she had been reaching for something because her arm was extended out. The rest of the Winchester family was already surrounding her, looking down in horror and concern. By the time Sam, Oliver, and Gabriel added to the mix, it sounded like everyone was attempting to figure out what was going on. As soon as she saw Oliver, Jess darted through the crowd to get to him with Charlie in her arms.

“Who’s that?” Oliver asked.

“Death,” Cas answered solemnly.

“Death?” Ollie repeated, “Like – like the Grim Reaper? The real one?”

“Yes.”

As he lifted his infant daughter out of Jessica’s arms, Oliver gave Sam a look that didn’t need verbal explanation. It was an expression that repeated his earlier statements. He didn’t want his daughter to be anywhere near the embodiment of Death, yet there she was…

“Is she dead?” Dean asked.

“No. Only unconscious,” Michael answered, kneeling to the floor to inspect her closer, “It appears she was burned by celestial grace. But I’m unsure of who –”

“Lucifer.”

Sam’s blood ran cold as he turned to look at Gabriel next to him. Gabe sounded very matter-of-fact when he spoke, if not a bit annoyed. The moment he said it, Castiel, Michael, and Dean all flashed severe looks to him.

“What?” Michael breathed, “How do you know it was – ?”

Before Michael even finished his sentence, Gabriel held out his hand and a large scythe appeared in his grasp. Sam’s mouth fell open when he saw the curved blade. Holy shit, Gabe had Death’s scythe! Why?

“She gave it to me,” Gabe explained, “Told me to keep it away from Lucifer.”

“So Lucifer left Heaven and tried to take Death’s weapon,” Dean assumed, “Obviously, he couldn’t. Why would she give it to us? And why would Lucifer try to take it from her in the first place? Dude’s got grace. He could smite anyone he wanted.”

“… Not everyone.”

Michael’s low and stoic tone caused the whole group to go quiet again. Sam felt fully aware of his own husband’s short presence next to him as the reality of what he just heard started to sink in. There were very few beings in the universe that couldn’t be killed by angel grace…

“Okay. I’m lost,” Clarence spoke up from the side of the hall as he held Jude’s hand, “Who’s the devil trying to kill?”

Michael stood back up to plant his hands on his hips and sighed deeply.

“Now that Darkness has been vanquished, there are only two beings left in all creation that can’t be touched by celestial grace. One is laying in front of us,” he explained, gesturing to Death at their feet, “And the other is –”

“No,” Castiel exhaled, looking appalled, “Lucifer would not kill his own father. _Our_ Father. That is madness.”

“Spend enough time in a cage, madness becomes clarity,” Michael muttered, “Lucifer spent far too long in that cage.”

“That scythe can kill God?” Dean asked as he pointed toward the weapon in Gabe’s hand.

Michael pursed his lips and nodded once, eying the scythe with disdain. Gabriel’s small hand tightened around the wooden shaft, gripping it like a vise.

“It’s not going to,” Gabriel stated with such determination that it gave Sam chills, “Billie gave this thing to us to keep it away from Lucifer, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

Sam eyed his husband’s blonde locks and amber eyes, feeling a swelling of admiration. Damn, Gabe was so sexy when he took things seriously. Why couldn’t he be serious a little more often?

“You make it sound like it will be easy,” Michael said in exasperation.

“It will,” Gabe shrugged, “There are, like, fifteen of us and one of him. He’s outnumbered. Bigtime.”

“But he is more cunning than all of us,” the dark-haired archangel replied.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m with Gabe on this one,” Dean allowed, “We can keep that weapon under control. In the meantime, we’ve gotta figure out what to do with her.”

Every eye fell back to Billie on the floor. Sam felt terrible that they were all just standing there talking around her limp body, but everyone seemed too afraid to touch her.

“I don’t think she should stay here,” Oliver muttered sheepishly, “Not to be mean or anything, but if she’s Death, I don’t want Charlie to be around her.”

“Agreed,” Jess said.

“The children are right,” Cas said, even though Ollie and Jess were clearly adults now, “Death cannot remain in the bunker.”

“Well, we can’t just throw her out,” Dean said, glancing around, “… Can we?”

“No. Lucifer will surely find her again,” Michael answered, “We need to put her somewhere she will be safe.”

Across the hall, Clarence casually raised his free hand, gaining the group’s attention.

“She can stay with my old man,” he offered.

“Nice try, kid. But I highly doubt Bobby will let Death stay in his house,” Dean said.

“Not _that_ old man,” Clare huffed, “I meant Crowley. He can take her to Hell.”

Sam glanced around, seeing the expressions all shift to looks of understanding. Personally, Sam thought it was a great idea. Somehow, it seemed kind of fitting for Death to be safe in Hell. As the family contemplated the situation, Cas suddenly disappeared from Dean’s side. Dean and Jude looked toward the empty spot between them before sharing a look of confusion. In the meantime, Sam also felt a tiny hand on his own arm and glanced down to see his granddaughter smiling up at him from Oliver’s shoulder. Charlie’s round, dimpled cheeks melted Sam’s insides. She seemed to be the only person in the hall unaffected by everything that was happening, and Sam slightly envied her innocence.

Cas popped back into the room a few seconds later with Crowley, Rowena, and Bobby. Other than Cas, the new arrivals seemed completely lost and frustrated by being suddenly transported to a new location. Rowena was even holding a messy wooden spoon in her hand.

“Confound it all, ya blithering bird! I was in the middle of something!” the witch spat angrily toward Cas before turning to see Jude and Clare near her and gasping excitedly, “Boys! How did it go? Did the potion work? Have ya got an egg in yer nest?!”

Sam saw Jude and Clare share a small smile with each other and tighten their joined hands.

“The potion didn’t work,” Clare admitted, “… but I knocked up Jude anyway.”

“With twins,” Jude added with a smile.

Bobby, Crowley, and Rowena – _and_ Sam and Oliver – all gasped upon hearing the news. Twins? Sam was surprised that a demon and an angel could make a single child, let alone two at once. Rowena shrieked shrilly in excitement, flinging her spoon behind her so that she could rush over and hug the couple. She cradled Jude’s stomach afterward and ranted about how happy she was for them and how she couldn’t wait to meet the little tykes. Crowley and Bobby, however, were both distracted by Billie on the floor.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Crowley asked, “Did you idiots kill Death _again_?”

“She just showed up and gave me her scythe. Said Lucifer tried to take it from her,” Gabe quickly explained.

“And we need to put her somewhere that’s not the bunker,” Dean added.

“So I volunteered your place,” Clare admitted.

The sheer volume of information that got dumped onto Crowley and Bobby in just a few short seconds left them momentarily speechless. They looked at each other, then to Jude and Clare, then to the weapon in Gabe’s hand, and finally Death on the floor. The look on Crowley’s face was indecipherable. Sam was sure that he would be pissed about the whole situation, or at least unhappy about having to take Death to Hell. But the demon king simply rolled his dark eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Honestly. Nothing that happens to you lot surprises me anymore,” he mumbled, “Fine. I can make room in my castle for this poor sod. But I can’t guarantee she’ll stay there if she wakes up. She’s Death itself and she’ll do as she pleases.”

“Fair enough,” Michael nodded, “Let us know if she wakes up.”

“In the meantime, the rest of us are going on lock down,” Dean stated boldly, his eyes slowly traveling between every person in the room, “Everybody stays together for a few days until we get this sorted out. That means no leaving the bunker, not even for beer runs. We keep an ear to the angel radio and look for warning signs. If you find something that seems off, you let everyone else know. And for Chuck’s sake, use the buddy system, alright? The last thing we need is a family member going MIA,” Dean paused to gesture to his slightly-glowing son next to him, “We’ve got babies coming in about a week’s time and we’re gonna need all hands on deck. If Lucifer’s planning to start trouble, we have to be ready. Got it?”

The hallway filled with various nodding heads and mumbles of ‘yeah’ and ‘okay.’ It had been so long since Dean had to use his big brother voice, the sound honestly made Sam upset. He hated that his family always had to keep their guard up twenty-four-seven. When would they finally be able to relax and live like an ordinary family? Crowley was the first to move. The demon king held out his hand and wisps of black smoke started to billow out from his fingers and gather around Billie’s body.

“Robert,” Crowley said, glancing to the old hunter beside him, “Put an old demon’s mind at ease and stay here, would you, darling? I’ll grab your heart medication and a bottle of brandy from the nightstand upon my return.”

Bobby tilted his head down – probably to hide his reddening face from everyone else in the hall – but nodded.

“Sure,” the old man muttered, “Bring our dogs back with ya, too.”

Sam felt the urge to smile. It was the first time he had ever heard Bobby refer to Dickie’s pups as ‘our dogs.’ His _and_ Crowley’s dogs. The idea was really sweet… Crowley nodded, turned back to the plume of smoke, and disappeared, taking Billie with him. Afterward, some of the family’s attention slowly began to gravitate toward Jude, because Rowena was still rambling happily about Jude finally getting pregnant. But Sam was more focused on Gabriel than anything. The golden-haired archangel was as still as a statue, still holding out the scythe almost like he wanted someone else to take it.

“Gabe,” Sam said, reaching over to touch his husband’s shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“What? Huh? Yeah. Of course I’m okay, Sammy,” Gabe said too quickly, putting on his best fake smile as he shifted the heavy scythe around, “I’ve got you, don’t I? Everything will be fine as long as I’ve got my Samsquatch.”

Sam grinned and nodded, but only to make Gabe feel better. Inside, his stomach was twisting with worry. Lucifer, Death, God, Jude’s pregnancy – it was a lot, even for the usually laid-back trickster. While Sam tried to think of something else to say to comfort his husband, he felt a tiny hand on his arm again. Charlie was gently slapping him, trying to get him to look at her. Once he did, her gummy grin returned, displaying her dimpled cheeks.

“ _Moo-moo-moo-moo!_ ” she hummed excitedly.

A genuine smirk temporarily flashed on Sam’s face. His granddaughter didn’t call him Grandpa or Pawpaw. She called Sam ‘Moo-moo,’ because she heard Gabe call him Moose all the time. Honestly, Sam had gotten so used to the nickname that he didn’t mind it anymore. To him, Moo-moo was a hell of a lot better than Grandpa.

“Here,” Oliver said, shifting the baby out of his grasp and holding her toward Sam, “Take her for a sec, will you?”

Sam immediately took the baby into his arms, after which Oliver and Jessica started to talk in whispers. He heard Jane’s name, so he assumed that Oliver was worried about his mom. Once in her grandpa’s hold, Charlie beamed and reached up for his shaggy hair, reciting the ‘moo-moo-moo’ phrase again as she tugged at the strands. Sam figured that Gabe would want to play with the baby too, like he always did. But the situation with Death must have really gotten to him, because the archangel stepped forward to talk with Michael about the scythe. For the moment, Sam was alone with his baby granddaughter, who was still oblivious to every bad thing happening in the world.

“You’re a lucky kid, you know that?” Sam hummed to the baby.

Charlie only cooed happily. Her little round face brought back so many memories of Jessica at her age. How could twenty years have passed so quickly? How could Sam be looking at his granddaughter instead of his daughter? Using the gentlest touch, Sam swept some of Charlie’s fine orange-blonde hair out of her eyes. Her hands were extremely tiny. Such short, stubby little fingers, like her grandfather Gabriel.

“These are Grandpa Gabe’s hands, you know,” Sam mentioned as he held up one of her hands with the tip of his finger.

Charlie just looked at her hand and flexed her fingers open and closed. The baby obviously didn’t know what Sam was saying, but she still whispered, ‘Ga-ga-ga?’

“Grandpa Gabe. Yeah,” Sam nodded.

Charlie looked up at him before swiveling her large head around and reaching out toward Gabriel a few feet away.

“ _Ga-ga-ga-ga_!” she called. 

Charlie clearly wanted to visit her other grandpa, who was still talking quietly with Michael. Sam wasn’t going to intrude on their conversation, until he saw a flash of Gabe’s honey eyes and the terror secretly hidden there. There were only a select few times during their marriage that Sam saw that type of fear in his husband’s eyes. Even though they hadn’t spoken to each other about it yet, Sam knew that Gabe was dreading the thought of having to defend his family against his own brother. Lucifer had been one of Gabe’s favorite siblings and it probably killed him to know that he might have to bring him harm. What could Sam do to help him cope?

Michael eventually walked away, saying that he needed to bring Adam and Katherine back to the bunker. With Gabriel free, Sam walked over with their granddaughter to be with him. As soon as they were close, Charlie stretched both hands out toward him with her wide gummy grin.

“Ga-ga!” the baby rejoiced.

The adorable sound was just enough to pull Gabriel from his dark stupor. He glanced toward the scythe in his hand before dropping it to the floor with a loud clang and holding both arms out for Charlie.

“Snickerdoodle,” he sang, voice a little less excited than Sam was hoping for, “How’s my baby girl?”

Gabe tickled Charlie’s tummy, making her shrill giggle fill the hall. The sound must have made Gabriel feel something deep because he suddenly hugged her tiny body afterward, holding her to his shoulder as he gulped and closed his eyes. The sight tore Sam apart. To offer some kind of help, Sammy reached out to curl an arm around Gabe’s back and pull him close. Gabriel’s head instantly nuzzled against the middle of Sam’s chest and his free arm swooped around to grip a handful of Sam’s shirt.

“It’s gonna be okay, Gabe,” Sam whispered before pecking a kiss to the top of his husband’s blonde head, “I’m here for you.”

Gabe didn’t reply. His grip on Sam’s shirt only got tighter.

* * *

Death’s disappearing act was a gigantic pain in Lucifer’s ass. When he first showed up, he was really hoping to reason with her; help her see the light, so that she would be on his side when the second apocalypse rolled around. But Death obviously wasn’t going to budge, which meant that Lucifer would have to find her little gardening tool on his own.

When Death disappeared, Lucifer searched the area he was in. Part of him hoped that she had fled in such a hurry that she had forgotten to grab it. But of course, the bitch was too clever for that. The scythe was nowhere to be found among her grandiose halls of books. She must have taken it with her somehow, which meant he was going to have to find her again.

The next stop Lucifer made was Purgatory. If Death was trying to run away from the devil, Purgatory seemed like the first place to go. It was his least favorite place – besides Heaven – because of the cesspool of animal souls haphazardly thrown in there. With his grace, Lucifer searched every last corner of Purgatory as fast as he could, but there was no sign of the curvy figure of Death. No black hair, no dark eyes, not even those sexy dress pants. The only thing he found was miles and miles of carcasses, animals gruesomely hunting each other, and the stench of a thousand corpses.

So, if Death wasn’t in Purgatory, she was almost certainly on Earth. And that was Lucifer’s next destination. Though, finding her there was going to be much harder, not only because it was densely populated with hairless apes, but also because those Winchesters were probably keeping an eye out for him. Those bastards could probably smell celestial grace from hundreds of miles away, like a buck sniffing out doe urine during mating season. Angel grace was like cat nip to them or something. So he attempted to avoid them at all costs. Lucifer had no feud with those brats – at least, not at the moment. All he wanted was to find Death so that he could take her scythe. This time, it took him a little longer to scour the globe, but the result was still the same. No Death. Not even a sign of her. Anywhere. The outcome really pissed Lucifer off because he was sure that those were the only two places she would go. Death certainly wouldn’t go to heaven. And if Purgatory and Earth were both a bust, there was only one place left to check… and the thought brought a smile back to Lucifer’s face.

Hell was a plane Lucifer knew like the back of his hand, because he was the one who created it. Demons? His. The throne? His. Souls of the damned being tortured for all eternity with only the echoes of their own cries to keep them company? Definitely his. But he didn’t care about any of that anymore. That stuck-up, self-proclaimed ‘demon king’ could have it all. Lucifer didn’t give two shits about torturing humanity anymore. His fight was with God, and he wasn’t going to stop until he saw his father’s blood dripping from the curved blade of that scythe.

The scorching flames of hellfire rose up around Lucifer’s form when he arrived in one of the pits. The moment he landed, he could feel that Death was near; far closer than he had felt since his hand was on her throat. Using his grace to turn himself invisible, Lucifer slinked through the torture chambers, over the pits of fire, and finally arrived at the castle. Demons were skulking around everywhere, moving souls around. But Death’s sweet scent led Lucifer right into the dining hall. At least, it was the dining hall. Now, it looked like it had been transformed into some kind of trophy room. Pedestals with fine gems and rare items were placed all along the walls and it made Lucifer roll his eyes. Ugh. The ego of that demon king was astounding.

Finally, Lucifer had found his target. Death was unconscious, laying on a slab of stone in the middle of the room. Four demonic guards were stationed at each corner of the room, but Lucifer quickly disposed of them. A single blast of his grace fried them all at once, leaving only charred shadows against the walls where they once stood. Lucifer perched himself at Death’s side afterward; sitting on the edge of her stone bed so that he could peer down at her unconscious form. He felt oddly powerful staring down at her. Death itself was beneath him. She was helpless. Defenseless. And so beautiful. He could have stared at her forever. But he had a mission to complete, and she needed to be awake for it. With the softest movements, Lucifer leaned over to brush his lips against hers, using a celestial kiss to snap her back to consciousness.

Death awoke with a start, shaking her head and scurrying away from him, wiping her mouth along the way. She curled her legs up and glared at him from the corner of the stone slab, covering her mouth with her hand.

“ _Snake!_ ” she hissed angrily.

“Nice to see you too, honey,” Lucifer winked, “Consider yourself lucky. I’ve never kissed anyone in my life.”

Despite the compliment, Death continued to wipe her lips as if she thought they were poisoned.

“So, let’s cut to the chase,” Lucifer sighed, crossing his arms, “You and I both know I’m persistent and I’ll never stop coming after you until you give me what I want. Save yourself the hassle and just give me the scythe. I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done, and you’ll be free to go on your way.”

Death didn’t speak. She only rubbed her lips and glared at him. Her determination to deny his request really started to piss Lucifer off.

“Look, I know you’ve got it. You have it on you somehow,” Lucifer growled, flashing his eyes red again, “Do I really need to torture it out of you? Come on, I don’t want to disfigure that pretty face, but I’ll do what I have to.”

Death’s hand dropped away and she gave him the flattest look ever.

“You’re a petty child, Lucifer,” she said, voice raspy from their last violent encounter, “You’re a greedy asshole who does whatever he wants, no matter how it effects everyone else. And one of these days, it’s gonna come back to bite your lily white ass. And I just hope I’m there to see it.”

Lucifer’s top lip curled against his teeth as he grit his jaws together. That bitch didn’t know anything about him! She didn’t know about the millenniums he spent in a cage, how his family abandoned him, how humanity passed down lies about him. _Death didn’t know anything_! In his rage, Lucifer raised his hand and blasted Death with his grace. The force was enough to blow her off the stone slab and knock her unconscious again. Her body crumbled into a heap near the wall and lay motionless. Though he was seething with rage, Lucifer restrained himself enough to put his grace away. He had a mission. Always the mission…

Lucifer slipped over and rolled her back so that he could place his hand against her forehead. If he couldn’t get her to tell him where the scythe was, he could at least look through her memories and see where she put it. The most recent one, besides the encounter they just had, was fresh. Though the picture was blurry, Lucifer could make out the shape of the scythe in her hand – as well as a couple of familiar faces looking back at her. The blonde hair and golden grace was unmistakable. It was Gabriel, Lucifer’s little brother. And next to him was the offspring Gabriel had with Lucifer’s vessel. The image pulled a chuckle out of Lucifer’s mouth as he broke away to look down at Death’s limp body. 

“The Winchesters?!” he laughed, “You gave your scythe to those idiots?! Oh, you made it almost too easy, sweetheart.”

Death didn’t say anything because she was basically deadweight on the floor. But Lucifer rolled her pretty face toward him so that he could look at her one last time.

“For what it’s worth, I wish you were on my side,” he whispered, “… Such a shame.”

With a new sense of direction, Lucifer stood up from the floor, gathered his composure, and flew away from the heated misery of Hell. He was headed back to Earth to take the weapon off the Winchesters’ hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. This angst sucks. :( And I know there wasn’t a lot of fluff in this chapter because of all the angst, but it is on the way. Especially between Jude and Clare. I promise. :) Poor Sammy still has a full plate – Oliver, Gabriel, a new granddaughter – but he deals with it so well. :) And again about Lucifer: I feel like the relationship he has with Billie in this fic has a lot of symbolism. He’s literally attempting to court Death. As creepy as his behavior is, I think it’s just classic Lucifer. (Remember how terrible he was in Sam’s head? What a douche.) XD Next chapter will be better, though. I hope. ;) Guys, thank you so much for reading and commenting all the time, especially those of you who have been here for such a long time. Your devotion astounds and humbles me every single week. I love you all so much! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	8. Chapter 8

On the night that Billie showed up, before going to bed, Dean did something that he hadn’t done since his family first moved into the bunker. He did a full perimeter check. Every single room, top to bottom, with a flashlight in one hand and an angel blade in the other. He put the garage door out of commission and triple bolted the main door – which seemed stupid in hindsight, because Lucifer could fly. But hearing the locks click firmly into place comforted Dean, so it wasn’t a total waste. The last time he’d done a thorough sweep of his home, it was to check out all the cool rooms and figure out where each member of the family was going to crash. Now, it was to make sure the devil wasn’t hiding inside the walls.

He wasn’t. At least, not that Dean could see. Not yet, anyway. It was close to ten o’clock at night by the time he finally called it quits and headed for his bedroom. Dean passed Michael in the hall on the way, and though they didn’t say a word to each other, Dean could tell that the archangel was doing his own perimeter check of the bunker. In the ‘before’ time, before Dean and Cas had a child or were even a couple, Dean would have taken offence to Michael’s forward actions. Dean would have seen it as the archangel overstepping his boundaries; as Michael trying to force his way onto Dean’s territory to do his job for him. But now, after everything that had happened between them and their family, Dean was honestly grateful for the help. The silent, momentary glance they shared in the hallway seemed to explain so much. Michael was the eldest child of his family, just like Dean. The insane level of responsibility was hardwired into his brain, too. It was an older brother thing. Watching out for everyone else was their job. They didn’t have to be asked to do it. They just did it, because it was all they knew how to do…

When Dean finally made it back to his room, he found Cas sitting in bed. The angel was already dressed down – wearing nothing but a pair of tight black boxer shorts, just the way Dean liked it – with his back propped up against the pillows and the headboard. Their comforter was tossed casually over some of his lap and legs, and his arms were loosely crossed against his torso. His blue eyes were cast toward the end of the bed, but they were so distant that the angel didn’t even notice that his husband had walked in. Dean casually started to unbutton his plaid shirt as he shut the door and stepped out of his boots.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean greeted quietly.

The angel finally snapped out of his trance, blinking once before flashing those pretty blue eyes toward the man undressing at the door.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied.

The deep, familiar sound of that phrase made a smile briefly appear on Dean’s face. He loved hearing Cas say his name.

“What’s the matter, babe?” Dean asked.

As Dean tossed his shirt away and reached down to undo his belt, Cas sighed heavily.

“Nothing,” the angel denied.

Dean shook his head as he pulled his pants down to his own ankles and stepped out of them. He waited to speak until he got to the bed and climbed to sit on his side. The added weight caused the mattress to shift a bit, slightly bouncing Cas in his seated position. Before he talked, Dean faced his angel completely.

“Dude, we’ve been married for like a hundred years. You can’t lie to me,” the man explained, eying every detail of his angel’s handsome face, “Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

Cas’s jaw shifted back and forth, as if he was chewing on his reply. He seemed unwilling to answer at first, but finally gave in.

“I am thinking about our son,” Cas murmured softly, “I am thinking about our grandchildren, who are yet to be born. I am thinking about my brother Lucifer, and wondering why he would want to harm Death or even my Father… and I am thinking about _us_ , Dean,” Cas breathed, turning to look at him with large sapphire orbs, “Remembering when we were expecting our own child. Do you recall how it seemed like my entire family was against us? How we had to fight to save Jude before he had even taken his first breath?”

“Yeah. I do,” Dean nodded.

“Why did it happen?” Cas exhaled, shaking his head slowly, “Why do these things happen to our family? Just when we begin to partake in joyous miracles, tragedy rears its head. Can we not have peace, Dean? Is there no end to these horrific events? Must we always be plagued with heartache and despair?”

Dean was honestly at a loss for words. How the hell was he supposed to answer that question when it was being asked by the same person he would go to for the answer? Though he was out of advice, Dean felt the need to come up with something. He hated the thought of Cas being upset. To start, Dean reached over to take his husband’s hand. The sensation of Cas’s warm, gentle fingers were like medicine to Dean’s soul, and the touch was enough to help him speak.

“There are a lot of things that I don’t know, Cas… but here’s what I do,” Dean began, looking up to search the ocean blues he adored, “I know that our family is safe right now, and that we are all happy and healthy. I know that tomorrow, the sun is gonna come up, just like it always does. Gas prices will be outrageous. Led Zeppelin will still be the greatest band of all time. Sam will try to get us to eat organic crap. Gabe will find a way to annoy us. And our son will still have a thing for Superman… But more than any of that, I know that you are, and will always be, the safest haven I have ever known. You are my rock. My church. My sanctuary. And my best friend. If I ever need to be reminded that there is still good in the world, all I have to do is look at you, Cas, and I’m a believer again.”

The last part was just enough to make a soft smile appear on Cas’s pink lips.

“And that, for me, is enough,” Dean concluded with a shrug, “That’s what gets me through one tragedy to the next. Loving you and our family… Sorry that’s not much of an answer –”

Cas suddenly leaned over to capture Dean’s mouth with his own, muting the rest of Dean’s statement with a grateful pair of lips and a loving tongue. Dean’s eyes automatically shut so that he could savor the sweet taste. Damn. Kissing Cas was like drinking from living water; like being delivered to the promised land. When Cas slowly broke away, Dean reached up to hold the angel’s warm face to keep him close.

“It was a perfect answer, Dean,” Cas corrected, his breath brushing against Dean’s wet lips as he spoke, “Thank you.”

“N – no problem, babe,” Dean smirked, his head still swimming from their physical contact.

Cas’s eyes gazed deeply into Dean’s, measuring his soul with the softest stare possible.

“You are my sanctuary, too. As well as my fortress. And my garden,” the angel hummed.

Dean’s smile only grew. Most people would probably find it weird to be compared to a garden, but Dean knew how much Cas loved flowers and bees, so that made it a damn good compliment. There was nothing that comforted Dean more than looking into his angel’s eyes and seeing unconditional love there. He felt like he could stare at Cas forever. The angel sighed happily as he reached up to cup the side of Dean’s cheek.

“I would like to have sex with you, now, Dean,” Cas blurted.

Dean chuckled once, because the extremely blunt statement caught him off guard. But then, he kissed Cas’s lips again and slid both arms down to cradle the angel’s back.

“Then sex we shall have, babe,” Dean obliged.

* * *

Jude knew that everything that was happening with Billie was super important. He knew that Lucifer was probably up to something bad and that the whole family needed to be on alert just in case he tried to mess with them… but in the meantime, Jude couldn’t help but be absolutely smitten with his pregnancy.

He raised his shirt up to look down at his own glowing stomach so many times that Clare suggested he just take his shirt off. Which is exactly what he did when it was time for bed that night. Jude laid on his own twin sized bed in his Superman sheets, propped up so that he could place both hands on his flat, glowing stomach and stare at it. His babies – bab _ies_. Not one, but two. That still left Jude in awe – were growing inside his grace, and he could almost feel it happening. Grandpa Chuck was right, as always. Jude did get more than he wished for…

His bedroom door opened up across the room, letting Clarence back inside. The demon had gone to the bathroom to brush his teeth and had returned, wearing one of his old Pearl Jam t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. Jude admired his husband’s grungy attire, finding Clare’s messy hair and bad-boy look sexy as hell. Though, when Clare started for the bed, he grimaced and reached back to hold his hip.

“My ass still hurts,” he mentioned, rubbing his tailbone.

Jude laughed a little, remembering Clare dropping out of sight with a loud ‘bang’ in the kitchen when he learned they were having twins.

“You poor thing,” Jude smiled, “Come here. I’ll heal you.”

Clare waddled his way over to carefully sit on the edge of Jude’s bed, where Jude reached out to touch Clare’s back. The angel used his grace to heal his husband, like he had done countless times before – but this time, it felt like there was a surge in Jude’s body. The tiny flash of grace he used to heal Clare caused a slight jolt to his stomach, where the glow brightened and faded in a flash. Jude didn’t mention the sensation out loud, but he knew he felt it. The same grace he used to do angel things was the same grace his children were growing in. Which meant that he probably wouldn’t be able to do many angel things now that he was pregnant. Not without harming his twins…

“Ah,” Clare smiled, flexing a bit, “Much better. Thanks, Jay.”

Jude nodded, quickly regaining his smile so that Clare wouldn’t be worried. Clare’s attention, however, immediately gravitated toward Jude’s stomach. He reached out to carefully place his hands next to Jude’s, where the white glow shimmered in his chestnut eyes. There was a look on his face that Jude couldn’t describe, some mixture of fear and joy and awe.

“I can’t believe there are twins in there,” Clare whispered, sounding terrified, “Jude, we’re going to have two kids.”

“I know,” Jude replied, deliberately moving his fingers to touch Clare’s.

The longer the demon stared at the angel’s glow, the more worry seeped into his expression.

“We don’t have anything ready for them,” Clare breathed, “No diapers, no formula… Jay, we don’t even have names picked out yet.”

“Well, let’s pick some right now,” Jude suggested.

“What? We can’t just name them _right now_. We have to think about it and pick good ones,” Clare corrected.

Jude had another small laugh. It was funny to see Clare – the usually calm, suave, and charismatic demon – freaking out over every little part of their children’s lives. But Jude admired and respected his husband’s attention to detail. Clare wanted to make their children’s names special, and so did Jude.

“Okay,” Jude allowed, glancing to his own stomach, “Then, how about we each name one? You name one, I’ll name the other.”

“Alright,” Clare agreed, “Do you want to name the boy or the girl?”

Jude swallowed hard and slid his thumbs back and forth over the skin of his own stomach, where the babies were taking shape just below the surface. How was he supposed to pick between them? That was impossible.

“You choose,” Jude mumbled.

“Well… Girls aren’t exactly my forte,” Clare replied, “Is it cool if I name the boy?”

Jude immediately nodded, feeling his smile grow back. The idea of Clarence picking their son’s name made him feel even more excited. Clare’s grin widened and he looked back down to Jude’s stomach, where he cradled both sides again.

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll give you a kick-ass name,” the demon promised, “And I’m sure Papa Jude will give you a sweet name too, little girl. You guys are in good hands.”

When he heard the phrase ‘Papa Jude’, the angel’s mouth dipped open slightly. Holy shit. Jude wasn’t just a parent. He was a _Papa_. He was the one that his kids would go to when they felt scared or needed affection, just like Jude did with his own Papa. That was a pretty profound revelation…

“We’re gonna have to buy two of everything,” Clare sighed, pulling Jude from his thoughts again, “Two car seats, two highchairs, two strollers. Double the clothes. Double the toys… Man, that’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah,” Jude mumbled.

For a moment, the two parents were silent as they blinked down at the glow from Jude’s abdomen. The weight of their impending responsibility was slowly crushing down on them, filling their minds with anxiety. Jude hadn’t thought this far ahead. He wanted to get pregnant and have a baby, but he never thought about what would happen _after_ he had that baby. And now that it was _two_ babies, the worry was doubled. How was he going to juggle two infants at once? What if it was more than he could handle? Or more than _Clare_ could handle? What if they didn’t get the names right? What if they were bad parents?

While Jude was starting to have a mini crisis in his head, Clare’s head rose to reveal a pair of wide eyes and a smirk. Jude blinked at him, wondering why he had that look on his face. It was almost like a light bulb had clicked on over Clare’s head.

“What?” Jude blurted.

“I just remembered,” Clare breathed, sounding delighted, “We already have something to give them.”

Jude narrowed his eyes at his husband. What was he talking about? With Jude thoroughly lost, Clare got up from the bed and walked around to Jude’s bookshelf near the far wall. Jude sat up straighter and watched him, wondering what he was looking for. It wasn’t until Clare started back to the bed that Jude saw the brown fur and realized – Clare had the otters. The pair of stuffed otters that Jude had since he was a kid, the ones with magnetic paws. Clare sat down and held them up with a grin, looking impressed.

“They can each have one,” Clare explained, scrunching his eyebrows a little, “These are… kinda perfect, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Jude exhaled, feeling goosebumps on his own skin.

“Where did you get these, Jay?” Clare asked, breaking the paws apart so he could snap them back together.

“The Zoo,” Jude answered, “We went there for Jessica’s tenth birthday.”

“ _Tenth?_ ” Clare repeated, pausing to give Jude a stunned look.

“Yeah. Why?” Jude asked.

“Nothing. It’s just… that was a long time ago. Long before you ever met me. But you gave me one when I first left the bunker,” Clare reminded, “Why’d you do that?”

Jude felt a blush starting to work its way across his cheeks. They were starting to fill with heat when he reached forward to take one of the otters out of Clare’s hand and look down at it. It’s little sewn smile and bead eyes were still adorable, even after so many years.

“Because when I first got them, Papa told me that I should give one to somebody special. Someone important to me. That way, we could each have something to remind us of each other,” Jude explained, too shy to look anywhere but at the toy in his hand, “This is going to sound silly, but… I kinda hoped that if I gave you one, it would make you homesick and you’d come back to me… Wait, that doesn’t make sense…”

“Yes, it does.”

Jude finally looked up to see absolute seriousness on Clare’s face. He nodded his blonde head, clinching the lone otter firmly in his grasp.

“It makes a lot of sense, Jay,” Clare chuckled breathlessly, glancing between Jude’s eyes and the stuffed animals in their hands, “And I want you to know it worked. I’ve been homesick for you my whole life. I just didn’t know it until I met you… And I don’t know if it’s fate, or coincidence, or some kind of miracle, but it looks like these were destined to make it into the hands of our children, too.”

He reached out to hold his otter closer to Jude’s, getting the magnetic paws close enough to ‘ _click_ ’ back together. Jude smiled at the joined otters, feeling joy and love swell in his chest. Clare was right. There was an otter for each of their children; something to keep them united always, as twins should be. Though he didn’t say it out loud, Jude thought that this must have been a tiny part of Grandpa Chuck’s design. How could it not be?

Seeing that Jude was at a loss for words, Clare only smiled and crawled forward to bring their lips together. After the small, intimate kiss, Clare pecked his lips to some of Jude’s face too, bringing the smile back to the angel’s mouth. The demon bent down to kiss Jude’s stomach twice as well, one for each of their children. Then, he snuggled down onto the bed, laying his head at Jude’s side and tossing an arm around Jude’s hips to face the angel’s stomach.

“You go ahead and get some sleep, Superman. I’ll take the first watch,” Clare announced.

Jude chuckled again. He liked the idea of Clare watching over their children, even though they were still in the womb. To show his appreciation and affection, Jude ran his fingers through Clare’s silky hair and nestled into a comfortable position.

“’Night, Clare. I love you,” the angel hummed, closing his eyes.

“Love you too, Jay,” Clare replied, “Goodnight.”

* * *

Jessica had more trouble sleeping that night than usual. It wasn’t just Ollie’s loud snoring or Charlie’s nightly diaper change that kept her awake. It was the image of Death laying on the floor, holding out her scythe to Jess and her Papa. It was the idea of her creepy uncle Lucifer roaming around the earth looking for something to devour. It was the notion of her family not being as safe as she thought they were.

The family decided to take shifts keeping an eye on the scythe. Michael took first watch. Then Jess’s Pop. Then uncle Cassie. They kept the thing in the dungeon of the bunker, out of sight of not only Lucifer if he tried to show up, but also everyone else. Nobody wanted to look at the weapon, let alone be near it. But they were all that stood between it and the devil’s grasping hands, so it needed to be done. Jess wondered how long they would need to keep it. She hoped that Death would wake up and come to retrieve it soon. She didn’t like the thought of the deadliest weapon in the universe being in close proximity to her daughter.

Jess eventually feel asleep around two o’clock that morning, after changing Charlie’s diaper. She didn’t wake back up until one of her husband’s deep, rumbling snores shook the bed. She grumbled at the irritating sound and rolled over, hoping to drown out the noise by raising the blanket over her ears. But as she rolled, she glanced toward Charlie’s crib – and noticed that one side was down. Jessica instantly sat up and blinked several times toward the crib in the dark, unsure if what she was seeing was true. But the crib was open… And Charlie was gone.

“Oliver,” Jessica said, searching the bed between them as she shook her husband awake, “Hey. Where’s Charlie?”

Ollie grunted and rolled away from Jess’s shaking hand, fighting to stay asleep. He mumbled something along the lines of ‘Dean came in and got her’, which Jessica found to be ridiculous. Uncle Dean wouldn’t come into their room in the middle of the night to get Charlie. Jess glanced at the clock near the bed, seeing that it was close to five AM. So it was almost morning, but still. It seemed suspicious…

Jess tossed back her blankets and headed toward the door, stepping through the obstacle course of items to get there. The hallway, as usual, was lit with the fluorescent lights of the bunker, making Jess blink repeatedly so that her eyes could adjust to the contrast. Her destination was Dean and Cas’s bedroom, to see why they would take Charlie without telling her. But she never made it there. Because the figure in the hallway stopped her in her tracks.

Though his back was turned to her, Jessica knew it was the devil. It was Lucifer in his human form; some guy that looked kind of like Dean from the back, but wasn’t built the same way. He was standing there, facing the other direction. But when the bedroom door softly snapped shut at Jessica’s side, he slowly turned around – revealing the baby in his arms. Jessica’s heart leaped into her throat at the sight of her own child in the arms of the devil. Charlie was fast asleep, curled to the side and wrapped in her pink and yellow blanket. And Lucifer was grinning down at her, using the back of his finger to gently stroke her strawberry blonde hair. The sight turned Jess’s stomach sour in an instant and made the blood drain from her face. Her first instinct was to fly across the room and snatch the baby from Satan’s grasp, but his red glowing eyes flashed up and he raised his finger to his own lips.

“ _Shhhh_ ,” he warned in a whisper, “Don’t make a sound. You wouldn’t want to wake the baby, would you?”

Jessica’s heart was pounding so hard, she could hear every fast beat in her ears. It sounded like drums banging in a rhythm; a terrifying theme to go with the terrifying situation.

“Give me my daughter,” Jessica hissed.

She was trying to sound intimidating, but it came out like a beg from her raspy throat.

“You want this little atrocity back? Sure. You can have it,” Lucifer cooed, swaying a little bit as he cradled Charlie to his chest, “But you have to give me something first.”

Jessica didn’t need to hear the rest of his demands. She already knew what he was after. He wanted that damn scythe in the basement. But Jessica didn’t want him to have that, either. If Lucifer got his hands on that weapon, everyone in the universe would be in danger, especially Grandpa Chuck. But now, he had Charlie. Jessica’s child. What was she supposed to do?!

“You know what I’m here for,” Lucifer hummed, narrowing his eyes and smirking deviously, “So, listen very carefully. You are going to get it and bring it to me within the next ten seconds, or I will fly away with this little abomination and you will never see it again. Understand?”

Jessica nearly gasped. _No! He couldn’t take Charlie! He couldn’t take Jessica’s baby!_ Lucifer’s smirk heightened as he gripped Charlie even tighter.

“Ten…” he said calmly, “Nine…”

The sound of seconds dwindling away caused Jessica’s fight-or-flight instincts to kick in. Without thinking, she disappeared from the spot she was standing in and reappeared in the dungeon below. The scythe was sitting there, on a table in the middle of the room, with no one else around. In the hall few feet away, beyond the shield of a few shelves and filing cabinets, Papa and uncle Cas were exchanging shifts, mumbling quietly to each other.

There were a few seconds which Jessica considered shouting to them and telling them that Lucifer was upstairs. She wanted to alert anyone and everyone to the fact that the devil had backed her into a corner and was forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do. But the thought of Charlie disappearing forever made her reconsider. If Jessica was to tell someone, Lucifer would probably fly away prematurely and keep Charlie out of spite. Or worse. He would _kill_ her… That terrifying thought was enough to force Jessica to grab the black handle of the scythe and fly away again.

She reappeared in the hallway with the weapon in her hand, facing Lucifer, who was still holding Charlie. The devil smiled again once he saw her return with the scythe, still petting Charlie’s hair.

“Good girl,” he praised, gesturing her forward, “Bring it to me.”

Jessica stood still for a second, trembling with glistening eyes as she gripped the scythe and scrambled for any other solution to this predicament. She briefly considered flying over to grab Charlie out of Lucifer’s arms – but what if he flew away too fast for her to get there? Once again, she thought about shouting for help – but what if the sound was all it took to make Lucifer smite the baby in his arms? What if Jessica asked to have the baby first and then disappeared with both Charlie and the scythe? No, Lucifer wasn’t stupid enough to let Jessica hold both of them. What could she do?! _What could she do?!_

“Now,” Lucifer barked.

Jess flinched at the sound and carefully started to move forward. Tears were coming faster than she could stop them, running down her face as she glared at the devil holding her child. Rage and terror were boiling like lava in her chest as her feet slid across the stone floor. She didn’t want to release the scythe from her grip, but Charlie was right there in front of her, sleeping peacefully. Just out of reach.

Though it was against every fiber in her being, Jessica forced herself to hold up the scythe. The heavy weapon swayed around a little because of her shaking grip, but the sight of it still made happiness grow across the devil’s face. Instead of reaching up to take the scythe, Lucifer held his arms out – and dropped Charlie. Jessica gasped and dove for her daughter, releasing the scythe so that she could catch her baby with both hands. She grabbed Charlie just before the baby hit the floor, where her head was only a few inches from the stone surface. The sensation of falling and being caught was enough to wake Charlie up and make her start to cry. The sound came as a relief, though, because Charlie was now safe in Jessica’s arms where she belonged.

The scythe, however, was now in Lucifer’s grasp. He lingered in the hallway to admire it, looking along the detail of the curved metal and black handle like an art appraiser. As Jessica attempted to console her child, she glared at the devil through tears, wishing there was someway to take the scythe back from him. But he only smirked toward her like a pompous asshole.

“Oldest trick in the book. But it still works,” he mused, his smile fading into a more serious look as he planted the scythe next to him, “You idiots stay out of my way, or this scythe will find its way through all of you.”

Jessica didn’t answer. She only glared fiercely and clung to her crying baby, unable to even locate her voice. The distant sound of footsteps started to come from down the hall and the noise made Lucifer disappear into thin air, taking the scythe with him. The sight of him leaving the bunker with the weapon in his hand made Jessica sob out loud. She couldn’t help but feel like she had just signed Grandpa Chuck’s death sentence. She handed the devil the means to kill God. If anything happened to him, it was all her fault. Because she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to figure out a way to take both her daughter and the scythe away from Lucifer.

Jessica’s loud cries mixed with Charlie’s, echoing down the bunker corridors. She backed up against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, holding Charlie to her chest and curling into a ball. Voices and footsteps of various family members started to arrive, but Jess barely heard them over her own sobs. It wasn’t until she felt her Papa’s hands on her shoulders that she looked up to see him, her Dad, her uncles, and cousins all looking at her with sleepy, confused eyes.

“Jessie, what happened?! Are you okay?” Pop asked.

“ _No_ ,” Jess wept, trying to catch her breath, “ _I – I’m sorry! I didn’t have a – a choice!_ ”

“What is she talking about?”

“Gabe, what happened?”

“Is she hurt?”

“ _Shush it!_ ” Pop spat to the whispering voices before turning back to Jess with a soft look, “Honeydew, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened –”

“ _Lucifer!_ ” Jess cried, “ _He was just here! He had Charlie! He was going to take her, b – but I couldn’t let him, Papa! I couldn’t! So I – I – I gave it to him!_ ”

Jess didn’t have to elaborate. The look of horror that came across her celestial father’s face said it all. He knew exactly what she was talking about, as did most of the people standing around. Jess felt like every single one of them was glaring at her; blaming her for being so stupid as to hand Lucifer the most powerful weapon in the world. And they were right! She was a fool to do something so stupid! Her only consolation was the feeling of her daughter’s warm body in her arms. Jess continued to apologize, though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Apologies wouldn’t get the scythe back. They wouldn’t save her Grandpa. They wouldn’t save anyone. A heavy sigh came from somewhere in the crowd and the single word that came after it seemed to sum up the entire situation.

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love that angst, am I right? *nervous laugh* (Please don’t hurt me.) ;D I’m sure that most of you have already gathered this, but I will let you know: Not a single person was glaring at Jessica at the end there. She was just imagining it because she feels guilty. I’m sure we’ve all been in that position before. :( I was craving some Destiel fluff, so that’s why the beginning exists. Lol. XD Honestly, though, with everything that’s going on in the world, I wanted to hear some wisdom and reassurance from Dean and Cas, so the beginning just sort of happened. The Jude and Clare scene, however, was completely planned. ;D The otters were kind of foreshadowing the twins, I guess. Jude had no idea when he picked them out, of course. But it’s all part of Chuck’s grand plan. I’m sure you’ve had similar foreshadowing things happen in your life, too. Crazy to look back and see the connections, isn’t it? ;D I’m sorry this last part is filled with so much angst, but there are still good things to look forward to. :) 
> 
> And I want to take a second here to tell you all how much I appreciate you, and hope that you are doing well. It seems like the whole world is on lock down and separated, but I want you to know that even if you’re in a place that is dealing with quarantine, you are not alone. If you’re getting cabin fever or just need someone to talk to, I’m here! Drop me a line! ;) And be sure to call and speak with an elderly loved one in your life. Ask how they’re doing, tell them you love them, and remind them they aren’t alone either. :) (My 87-year-old Granny is quarantined, but she’s still hanging in there. She’s a tough ol’ bird.) ;D And I know Chuck told us to hoard toilet paper, but come on, guys! Be reasonable! The rest of us want clean butts, too! (Just kidding. I know you all are the nice ones who only take what you need, and I love you for it!) ;D Okay, I’ll stop rambling now. Thank you all so very much for reading and commenting on this fic! I love each and every one of you, and hope you stay healthy! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	9. Chapter 9

A sharp twinge of nausea woke Jude up out of a dead sleep. He blinked up at the dim glow on his bedroom ceiling, feeling the back of his tongue tingle and his stomach lurch. He was going to puke. There was no stopping it. The only thing he could do in the few dwindling seconds as it approached was pick where it was going to come out.

Tossing the sheets back, Jude quickly and delicately rolled himself off the bed and into the floor. After he thumped onto his superhero rug, he desperately reached out for the tiny trashcan near the bedside table. The vomit rose up just in time for him to grasp the can and drag it close. Jude honestly couldn’t remember the last time he puked so hard. With every heave, more and more acidic liquid burned his throat on the way out. It wasn’t until his stomach was completely empty that he was able to brace his shoulder against the side of his bed and breathe. Ugh, what a terrible way to wake up… Jude looked down at his shining stomach – and suddenly remembered that he was pregnant. No wonder he was so sick. His body was going through drastic changes to keep up with his growing children. A weak smile formed on his face as he braced a hand to his own belly.

“I hope you’re comfortable in there… ‘Cause it’s not so cozy out here,” he mumbled.

The twins, of course, couldn’t hear or understand him, but it still felt nice to talk to them. Jude smiled down at his own body for several moments – until his nausea came back and he reached for the trashcan again. This time, he puked until there was nothing left in his gut, leaving him to dry heave repeatedly. His back was starting to hurt from being hunched over and his knees were quivering. But he was able to hear the bedroom door open across the room.

“Oh my God, Jay! Are you okay?!”

Jude relaxed a little at the sound of Clare’s voice. The demon all but threw himself into the floor with the angel, reaching out to cradle his back and offer any kind of support. Jude was finally able to hold back his nausea enough to lean against the bed again to look at Clare. The guy must have been awake for a while because there was no sleep in his eyes at all. The only thing on his face was pure concern.

“Dude, I’ve never seen you puke before,” he huffed, petting the side of Jude’s sweaty face, “What did you eat?”

“Nothing,” Jude breathed, cringing at the acidic taste in his mouth, “I think it’s morning sickness.”

“Morning sickness? What’s that? An angel thing?” Clare asked.

Jude smiled a little as he wiped his wet mouth. Clare was so cute…

“No. It’s a pregnancy thing,” Jude explained, “Body’s doing weird stuff because of the changes… Wait, did you come in from the hall?”

It wasn’t until that moment that Jude realized Clare wasn’t in bed beside him when he woke up to puke. The strangest look of discomfort momentarily flashed across Clare’s face, but was quickly covered up by determination and concern.

“Yeah… Here,” Clare said, standing up to reach both hands out, “I’ll help you clean up.”

Though Jude was curious about what was going on to make Clare look so upset, he decided that he did need to clean up first. With his husband’s help, Jude was able to stand and start the journey to the nearest bathroom. It was the one that he shared with Jessica growing up, only two doors from their bedrooms. It only had a toilet, sink, and mirror, but that was all Jude needed. The first thing he did was grab the mouthwash and swish away the nasty flavor. Then, Clare grabbed a fresh washcloth, soaked it in some hot water from the sink, and began to wipe Jude’s entire face. Jude enjoyed the sensation of Clare’s gentle caresses, smiling at him the whole time. Despite his rough upbringing and rugged appearance, Clare had the softest touch; a calm and loving pair of hands that would soon hold, hug, and play with their children. Jude couldn’t have asked for a better partner...

“You’re as pale as a dove’s ass, Jude,” Clare mentioned sadly, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Hopefully kiss me good morning,” Jude mumbled.

It was a joke. Jude was just trying to lighten up the mood because Clare looked so serious. But when he heard the comment, Clare cracked a smile, put the rag down, reached up with both hands to hold Jude’s face and looked him in the eye before leaning forward to press his lips to Jude’s cheek. Jude enjoyed the tiny embrace, closing his eyes to savor the sweet affection. The beating of butterfly wings in his stomach made the nausea dissipate. After giving Jude’s face a kiss, Clare’s lips found their way to the rim of Jude’s ear to soulfully whisper.

“ _Good morning_.”

Jude hummed a little, biting his bottom lip to keep from making too much noise. Damn, Clare could make anything sexy. Even a morning greeting was hot when it was coming out of his mouth… Clare raised back up to smile at Jude for a second before looking down at the white glow between them.

“How are our babies doing today?” he asked.

Jude’s grin couldn’t get any bigger. He and Clare had _babies_ together. He still couldn’t believe it was true…

“Besides making me puke, they seem okay,” Jude answered, holding his own stomach, “I can’t really feel them much. I know they’re in there, but I can’t really tell them apart. Not yet, anyway.”

“Well, if Charlie was any indicator, angel pregnancies are really fast, right?” Clare asked.

Jude nodded.

“And Rowena says twins are usually born a little early,” the demon continued, sounding stressed, “So, we’ve got three or four days to get ready for them…”

“Yeah,” Jude replied.

He had been ready to have children for a little over a year, so hearing that he would get to physically hold them in just a few short days was like music to his ears. But the idea seemed to really put Clare on edge.

“It’s going to be hard to do when we can’t even go home,” he pointed out.

Jude took a deep breath and sighed.

“I know that Dad sounded really serious yesterday, but I think it would be okay for us to go home for a while each day. I mean, it’s just down the road,” Jude shrugged, “Plus, we’ve got the scythe. If Lucifer tries anything…”

Jude’s voice trailed off when Clare’s chestnut eyes shot up to give him a hard look. The momentary silence allowed a grim air to seep into their conversation before Clare blurted.

“Lucifer took it.”

If Clare didn’t have that look on his face, Jude would have laughed at the ridiculous statement. Lucifer couldn’t have the scythe. It was downstairs in the dungeon, where his parents put it. But the longer they stared at each other, the more reality started to sink in.

“… What?”

It was all Jude could bring himself to say. Clare took a deep breath, dropping his hands away from Jude’s face and lowering them to Jude’s waist.

“A few hours ago, he came into the bunker and grabbed Charlie –”

“He _what_?!” Jude exclaimed, reaching up to cover his own gaping mouth in horror.

“She’s okay. He didn’t take her,” Clare assured, “but in order to get Charlie back, Jessica had to give Lucifer the scythe… He basically dangled the baby in front of Jess until she gave him what he wanted… Bastard played her like a fiddle. And now he’s got Death’s killing stick.”

Jude’s heart plummeted as the warmth in his face drained away. If it hadn’t come from his own husband’s mouth, Jude would have never believed what he was hearing. How dare Lucifer force Jessica into that! Jess was probably so upset right now. Jude could only imagine the pain she was in…

“Where is she?” Jude asked.

“Her room,” Clare answered, “She kicked Oliver out. He’s in the kitchen with everyone else. Jess said she wanted to be left alone. Her parents tried talking to her, but she won’t speak to them. She’s not speaking to anyone…”

“I want to talk to her,” Jude announced, standing up straighter, “I have to.”

If there was any one on the face of the planet that could relate to Jess and her struggle, it was Jude. They had grown up together, literally side-by-side, all their lives. Jessica was more than Jude’s cousin, she was his sister and his dearest friend. Besides, Jude knew a thing or two about being forced into situations that he couldn’t find a way out of. Clare, however, looked torn about Jude’s decision.

“I don’t know, Jay. She’s pretty upset.”

“Which is exactly why I need to see her,” Jude added, already turning for the door.

Though he was against the idea of disturbing Jess, Clare followed Jude down the hallway back to the bedrooms. Nowadays, Jude was used to seeing Jess’s bedroom door closed, because they each needed privacy with their own husbands. But remembering a time when they were never closed – being able to look up at night and see Jess sleeping just across the hall – made Jude kind of sad. He wished it could be that easy to see her again. Before reaching for the door, Jude glanced back at Clare.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen, okay?” he said.

He was sure that bringing Clare in would make Jess less likely to open up. Clare seemed to understand. He nodded, pecked another kiss to Jude’s forehead, and slid around him to start for the kitchen.

“Good luck,” he hummed sweetly.

Jude watched his husband walk away until the guy disappeared around the corner, leaving Jude alone at the door. After taking another deep breath, Jude started with a soft knock.

“Jessie?” he called as warmly as he could, “It’s Jude.”

There was no answer. Jude was tempted to fly inside, but the thought of having to use his grace while pregnant didn’t seem like a good option. Instead, he crossed his fingers and tried the door to see if it was locked – and exhaled with relief when it turned effortlessly. Jess may have been really upset, but going by the unlocked door, she was at least willing to let someone in.

Jess’s room was almost completely dark. There was one pink nightlight lit in the corner near Charlie’s crib, but it was only enough to cast shadows on the rest of the room. The white glow from Jude’s stomach added a little brightness when he walked in and the shine allowed him to see the scene. Jessica was laying on her and Oliver’s unmade bed, curled toward the wall and unmoving. It looked like she was facing Charlie, who was sleeping soundly in front of her. Jude gently shut the door behind him as he eyed his cousin’s beautiful blonde curls tossed across the pillow. Though he couldn’t see her face, Jude could sense how upset she was.

“Hey,” Jude whispered.

Still no reply. Jess clearly wasn’t in the mood for talking. Instead of pressuring her, Jude carefully walked over to sit on the edge of her bed and reach out for her. But as soon as Jude’s hand touched Jessica’s arm, she curled into a tighter ball, pulling herself away from his reach. Jude gulped and laid his hand on his own stomach instead, where the warm glow happily greeted his own touch.

“Jessie… Clare told me what happened… and I just want you to know it’s not your fault,” Jude comforted, still speaking only above a whisper, “You did the right thing, even though it might not feel like it. You saved someone you love, no matter the cost. That’s what true love is.”

Despite Jude’s attempt to cast a heroic light on what happened, Jess remained silent. She only faced Charlie’s sleeping form and kept her back to Jude. Jude struggled to come up with his next words. What could he possibly say to make Jess feel better? He started by looking down at his own hands in the glow of his grace, seeing the lines in his palms and the freckles on his wrist. His parents taught him to speak honestly, and always from the heart...

“I can’t imagine what you must be thinking right now. I’ll never know how much pain you’re in. But I can sort of relate to how you’re feeling,” Jude admitted, “I know what it’s like to see someone you love in the hands of something evil. And I did exactly what you did. And, you know what? I would do it a million times over again if I had to. Because that’s how much I love them.”

The brief silence that followed Jude’s statement seemed to finally get Jess’s attention. She carefully rolled over to look at Jude, and Jude could see just how much she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose was pink, and her cheeks were lined with wet streaks. The sight made Jude’s heart ache.

“Who?” she asked.

Her voice was raspy, as if she had been sobbing for a while, but Jude understood her question. He was glad to finally be able to take her warm hand.

“ _You_ ,” he answered, giving her a soft smile, “Remember the Darkness? I saw it swarm all around you, and it terrified me. I told it to take me instead, because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you forever. And I know you felt the same way about Charlie. You couldn’t let her go, so you did whatever it took to save her. I know that feeling,” Jude paused to smile and rub his stomach with his free hand, “Even though these little babies aren’t even born yet, I would do the exact same thing for them, too. Saving people… It’s kind of in our blood, Jess. I think it’s what we were put here to do.”

For a moment, it looked like Jess agreed with Jude’s statement. But then, tears started swelling in her pretty eyes again, her face contorting into a sad look.

“But now everyone’s in danger. Especially Grandpa. Because of me,” she breathed.

Jude squeezed her hand a little tighter and smirked.

“I think Grandpa knows exactly what’s going on. He knows everything,” Jude mused, “Grandpa will be fine. The important thing is that we are all still together. Charlie included.”

Jude and Jess both glanced toward the sleeping baby at Jess’s side. Charlie’s thin honey-orange hair was a mess on the mattress and her binky had fallen out of her mouth as she slept. Jess’s old stuffed bunny was laying at her side, looking as worn and happy as ever. Staring at Charlie’s cute little cheeks made Jude’s hand tighten around his own warm stomach. It wouldn’t be long before he would get to stare at his own children the same way; Twins that were going to look half like him and half like Clare. Jess seemed to notice Jude’s movements and her expression changed to a more concerned shade.

“Are you doing okay, Jude? How are my niece and nephew?” she asked quietly, placing her hand beside his on his stomach.

The words made Jude smile. Jessica was technically the twins’ second cousin, but hearing her call them her niece and nephew made Jude feel so warm inside.

“They made me puke this morning,” Jude admitted, “but other than that, they seem okay."

“Morning sickness,” Jess nodded, sniffling a little, “That’s how it always starts. Hopefully yours won’t last long.”

The two of them stared at Jude’s glow for a second, silently appreciating the fact that the lives of two small children were forming in the midst of chaos. Then, Jude looked back up to his cousin with a soft smile.

“Do you want to go get breakfast with me?” he encouraged.

“Nah. I don’t really want to see anyone yet,” Jess admitted.

“Alright. I’ll just get Clare to bring some breakfast in here,” Jude compromised.

At long last, Jessica smiled genuinely, relieving all the anxiety from Jude’s conscious in an instant. Jude kissed the back of Jessie’s hand before letting it go to stand up. He stretched a little, feeling an ache beginning to hurt around his lower spine. It would only be a matter of time before he was waddling around and complaining like the embodiment of a pregnancy cliché.

“See you in a minute,” Jude called quietly as he started for the door.

He was glad to have left Jessica in a better mood than when he came in. Back out in the hallway, the atmosphere was a little less quiet than in Jess’s bedroom. The distant echo of voices came from the kitchen hall. They were somber, almost angry voices. Jude listened as closely as he could to the conversation as he slowly approached the coffee-scented kitchen.

“… There’s nothing we can do, Gabriel. What’s done is done,” Michael said.

“Oh. So we’re just supposed to sit here and let the asshole kill our father? Is that it?” Gabe spat, “Where do you think he’s gonna go once he kills God? He’ll come straight here, that’s where. And he’ll slaughter us all.”

“I don’t believe he intends to do that,” Michael challenged.

“What makes you so sure?” Jude’s dad asked.

“Because he has Death’s scythe. If he wanted us dead, we would already be dead,” Michael sighed, “It seems his only concern is ending our Father… Anger and vengeance have always driven Lucifer’s motives. He lacks the will to see beyond his own self-interest.”

“That almost sounds like a weakness,” Crowley pointed out, “Perhaps we can use that to our advantage somehow.”

“How?” Uncle Sam asked.

Unfortunately, before anyone could come up with an answer to that question, Jude timidly stepped into the doorway and gained most of the crowd’s attention. His parents and Clare were at the counter, getting coffee, and the rest of the crew was scattered around the room in various poses. Jude was able to pick out his friend Oliver too, sitting with his head hung low in the corner, looking ashamed. Papa was the first to greet Jude. He flew across the room to wrap Jude into a sudden hug, which nearly made Jude jump in surprise.

“Good morning, son,” Papa hummed, pulling back to look down at Jude’s belly, “How are you feeling today? Any aches or pains? Discomfort? Cravings? Nausea? Clarence told me about your morning time ailment.”

“It’s called morning sickness, Cas,” Dad murmured softly with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

“I’m fine,” Jude assured, “And I think the twins are fine, too. But I can’t really tell.”

Without a word, Papa knelt to the floor and placed his hand on Jude’s stomach. The sensation of Pop’s grace meeting his own was kind of strange but oddly relaxing. It put him at ease to know that someone more experienced with celestial pregnancy was able to take care of him and his unborn children. The sweet smile that spread on Papa’s face at the contact made Jude happy.

“They seem to be progressing well,” Pop said, “Your twins are healthy, Jude. And… I believe I detect a bit of new grace.”

“Celestial grace?”

Jude looked up at the sound of Michael’s question. The archangel seemed suspicious, which kind of pissed Jude off. Of course it was celestial grace. What other grace was there?

“It appears celestial,” Papa answered calmly, carefully releasing Jude’s stomach to stand back up, “but it’s difficult to truly inspect from outside of the womb. I’m sure we will understand more about them once they are born.”

Jude shared a glance with his husband a few feet away. Learn more about them? Papa and Michael were making it sound like their children were aliens or something… Across the room, uncle Bobby got up from the kitchen table and walked toward the coffee maker, which made Jude realize the old man’s three dogs were following him. It was odd to see Peter, Willy, and Humphry in the bunker when Jude was so used to seeing them at Bobby’s house.

“So, fellas. What’s the plan?” Bobby asked plainly.

“We need to get that scythe back out of Luci’s hands,” Gabe snapped.

“Yeah. Because it’ll be so easy,” Dad muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t say it would be easy, numb nuts. I said we needed to do it,” uncle Gabe replied angrily.

“Whoa, guys. Relax,” uncle Sam interrupted, standing up to be a physical barrier between his husband and brother, “There’s no sense in getting upset right now. We have to focus.”

“Focus on what, Dearie?”

Jude, along with everyone else, looked toward the kitchen doorway, where Rowena and Meg were strolling in. Rowena was wearing a silky black robe with her fiery red curls in a messy bun, while Meg was dressed in her usual dark clothes and black boots. The demon was a few feet behind the witch, letting Rowena make the grand entrance while Meg slunk back out of the way.

“Ah. Nice of you to finally join us, Mother. Lucifer has taken the scythe. Would you like your tea with a side of biscuits?” Crowley casually purred.

Rowena’s eyes grew three sizes as she stopped dead in her tracks.

“ _What?!_ ” she gasped dramatically, planting her fists on her hips, “ _You all let that cursed bird fly off with the weapon of Death?! Are you lot completely out of yer bloody minds?!”_

“We didn’t give it to him. He took it,” Bobby corrected.

“He forced Jessica to give it to him by holding her daughter hostage,” Michael added.

“So Jess traded it to get Charlie back,” Gabe finished, “We’re all fine, but the scythe is gone. And Dad’s in big trouble.”

After hearing the details in rapid fire speed, Rowena unclenched her fists and let them drop to her side. She glared toward the far wall for a few seconds, letting it all sink in, before stomping her way toward the cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.

“Nope. Coffee won’t do this morning. I’ll be needin’ something much stronger,” she mumbled on the way.

As Rowena dug out a bottle of liquor to pour herself a hefty drink, Meg edged her way closer to Jude and Cas. Jude could tell that her eyes were lingering on his glowing stomach. It was like she was wanting to ask how the pregnancy was going, but felt unwelcome to ask. Pop seemed to notice it too, because he smiled and gestured to Jude’s belly.

“The twins are progressing well,” Papa informed.

Meg nodded and gave a side-ways smirk to Jude and his Papa.

“That’s good,” she said, finally meeting Jude’s eyes, “How are you holding up, kid?”

“I’m okay,” Jude answered, “Clare takes good care of me.”

Jude brought up Clare because he was the only thing that Jude really had in common with Meg. Though, Meg didn’t seem to mind. She only nodded again and glanced toward Clare, who was helping Rowena reach a cup out of the cabinet.

“He’s a good kid,” Meg hummed.

“Yeah,” Jude agreed.

As he watched Clare hand Rowena the biggest mug from the cabinet, Jude smiled warmly and held his own stomach again. If their twins came out with only half of Clare’s loving, protective, caring, and active personality, they were going to be very blessed parents.

Just as Jude swooned over his husband from a distance, a new sensation echoed through his grace. It felt like a tiny ripple; a drop in the water of his light. And it was continuous. Jude slowly took a step back to brace his bare back against the cold tile wall, wanting to lean against something solid so that he wouldn’t lose his footing. What was that feeling? It was almost like little raindrops falling on a drum. What was that? Was something wrong with the twins?

“Pop,” Jude breathed.

It only took one look from Papa for him to kneel down and cradle Jude’s stomach again. His grace collided with Jude’s and he was able to feel the sensation too. The slight commotion was enough to get Clare’s attention and draw him over to the little crowd.

“What? Why are you so pale, Jay? What’s happening?” Clare asked.

“I don’t know. I feel something,” Jude tried to explain.

“Son,” Papa exhaled, looking up to Jude with a smile, “Those are heartbeats.”

Jude’s mouth tumbled open. Heartbeats? Those little raindrops were heartbeats? Jude’s terror instantly melted into pure joy as he raised his head to look at Clare. The demon looked just as surprised and happy, standing there with his own mouth open and eyes slightly glistening. The hearts of their children were beating. They were alive, just inside Jude’s grace… but unfortunately, the emotional moment didn’t last long.

“Hey, guys?”

The room turned its attention to Adam, who had stepped into the doorway. He was feeding Katherine a bottle, cradling her softly and protectively in his arms. But his face was pale and his mouth was turned downward with anxiousness.

“You’d better come see this,” he said.

At once, every person in the kitchen glanced among each other in concern before following Adam out of the room. He led the silent group down the corridor and into the TV room adjacent to the study, where the large screen was tuned into the national news. Jude filed into the room behind his parents, feeling Clare’s hands on his shoulders as they both peered around to see what was happening. Several clips of raging fires flashed across the screen, each more devastating than the next. And over it all, a news reporter’s calm voice spoke.

_“… the newest count has reached 100,000, yet there have been no arrests. The organization or groups responsible for these fires remain unknown. Some have cited links to gang violence, but no evidence has been found to confirm or deny these speculations. Authorities are warning the public to stay away from buildings and places of worship, as they seem to be the main targets of the mysterious arson. The President has been briefed on the rising number of fires and has declared a state of emergency_ –”

“Son of a bitch,” Dad huffed.

“It looks as though Lucifer is attempting to get our Father’s attention,” Michael deduced.

As dread began to creep into Jude’s chest, he felt Clare’s warm hand slide from his shoulder and down to the front of his abdomen. The demon was covering the angel’s glowing stomach with one hand as he gazed somberly at the TV, subconsciously protecting Jude and their children from the horrific events unfolding in front of them.

Despite his own fear and worry, Jude could feel the raindrops still echoing through his grace. Even with Lucifer raging war on the world, the sound of two little heartbeats was a great comfort. There was still a chance that the future would hold at least some happiness. Jude and Clare’s most valuable source of hope was resting safe and sound inside Jude’s grace.

* * *

Getting the scythe was easy. But finding God turned out to be a whole different ballgame.

With Death’s weapon in his possession, Lucifer knew that nothing would be able to stand in his way. But that’s the thing about being invincible. No one wants to play with you when you’re the biggest, meanest kid on the playground. And unfortunately, that included the one being he wanted to play with. In order to swing the end of that scythe into God, God had to be inside a human vessel. Lucifer had to catch him in a killable body, not while he was being all high and mighty in his omnipresent form. Luckily, Lucifer had a plan to get his old man to come down and face him.

The devil started by sweeping through the earth and burning down every church he could see. Every country on every continent. Churches, synagogues, Cathedrals, even the Vatican. All of it burned to ash in a matter of hours. The raging flames were so great that they spilled into cities and took down whole villages. But the fires weren’t enough to get God’s attention.

“Fine,” Lucifer said, “Let’s see how you like this.”

Then, with Death’s unholy scythe, Lucifer sought out and murdered all of the priests he could find. Countless pathetic apes were slaughtered before they even saw him, though some managed to beg for mercy before the end. Lucifer did his best to purge the world of all those foolish enough to worship God. The devil knew that his old man had a soft spot for those particular idiots, so he figured that killing them would be enough to upset God. But the big man still refused to show up.

After all the churches and priests all gone, Lucifer found himself standing on the edge of the tallest mountain in the world, gazing out at the cloudy, misty Earth below with bitterness and rage. All of this gorgeous Earth had been wasted on humans. God had made a beautiful place and promptly ruined it by dumping those animals on it. But worse than all of that, he was refusing to show up for them now. Where was he when his priests were crying for help? When his holy houses were burning? Where was he when his son was deliberately ruining his creation?

“ _Face me, you coward!_ ” Lucifer shouted into the void, “ _Get off your ass and stop me!_ ”

The only reply Lucifer got was his own echo bouncing back to him. And it pissed him off even further. There was a part of him that wanted to speak with God before he killed him; get some answers to why he had been abandoned in the cage for so long. Why he wasn’t shown mercy like the rest of his siblings. Would God not even spare him that decency?

“ _Answer me!_ ” Lucifer screamed.

But his voice only faded into silence, having reached no one but himself. Of course God wouldn’t show up. He never showed up for Lucifer, all because of those worthless humans. The only archangels God ever showed up for were Gabriel and Michael… and that’s when the answer landed in Lucifer’s lap.

“You won’t show up for me, huh?” Lucifer growled as he swung the scythe onto his shoulder and glared toward the heavens above, “Let’s see if you show up for your precious little Winchesters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for yet another cliff hanger. :( The good news is that it will only take another week to find out what will happen next. Lol. ;D Once again, I wanted to stuff the beginning of the chapter full of as much fluff as possible. Jude and Clare needed that downtime, Jessie really needed that reassurance, and I figured it was time to let Jude feel his twins’ heartbeats. :) I will say that I am very sorry about the whole news report thing. With everything that’s going on in the world right now, I’m sure you’re just about sick of news reports, but I wanted to give the Winchesters a heads up about Lucifer’s temper tantrum. Despite what Lucifer thinks, Chuck is not ignoring him or the situation. He just knows there is no reasoning with Lucifer. Chuck’s given him every chance to change for the better, but luci’s just stuck in his ways. :( With that said, I hope all of you enjoyed this week’s chapter. Thank you so very very much for your continued support. Your comments and encouragement give me hope in this dark time, and I feel blessed to hear from each and every one of you. *hugs* And before I go, a quick warning: The next chapter will be the lowest, darkest point of the story. But if we can get through it, there will be amazing things waiting for us on the other side. ;) Thank you all so much! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning there are very sad parts in this chapter. I apologize ahead of time for any tears that may be spilled. If you are like me and you have a sensitive heart, it might be better to wait for next week’s happier chapter to give you comfort after reading this. But if you are brave enough to withstand the sadness, full steam ahead. :) Thank you so much for reading!

Jude and Clare eventually brought Jessica breakfast. Then lunch a few hours later. And then dinner a few hours after that. Despite the periodic visits from her cheery best friends, Jess remained tucked out of sight in her bedroom for the rest of the day. Charlie found the isolation a little strange. The baby often asked for ‘Da-da’, ‘Ga-ga’, and ‘Moo-moo’, but Jess showed her daughter videos of puppies and kittens on her cell phone to keep her distracted. One day away from the family wouldn’t hurt. The thought of being near them after handing the scythe to Lucifer seemed wrong. Jess deserved their outrage, not their pity. She deserved to be separate for what she had done.

That night – it must have been close to bedtime, though Jess could barely tell – her door opened again. She assumed Jude and Clare were bringing her a late-night snack and she was planning to send them away. But the messy hair and broad silhouette were enough to show that it was Oliver. She only gave him a single glance before rolling back over to watch the baby bunnies and ducks on her phone with Charlie. Part of Jess was really upset with him for letting Lucifer waltz in and take their baby while she was asleep. But, then again, she didn’t have much room to talk, did she? Jess was just as guilty as he was for letting it happen…

“H – hey.”

The sound of Ollie’s voice in a raspy tone reminded Jess of the old days, when he was nervous to talk to her because he liked her so much. Still, Jess didn’t reply. She only curled her arm around Charlie and tried to focus on the animals.

“Jess, I’m sorry,” Ollie continued at the door, “I really am… Gabe has already given me a lecture and a half, but if you need to yell at me too, I’m ready to hear it.”

Jess took a silent breath and pursed her lips. No matter how upset she was, Jess couldn’t bring herself to yell at Ollie. He was dumb and, at times, made really stupid decisions. But who didn’t? Poor Ollie didn’t realize that this isolation wasn’t supposed to be punishment for him, it was Jessica’s punishment for herself. As she struggled to come up with something to say to explain that, Oliver sighed wearily at the door.

“I get it. You’re still mad,” he mumbled sadly, “I’ll go find a couch. Goodnight.”

The sound of the door beginning to squeak shut made Jess quickly roll over. The gesture paused Ollie in the doorway, where he raised his head to share a look with Jessica. It was the first time they had seen each other since Jess had kicked him out. But all her anger had melted down into sadness and her spirit yearned for affection again.

“Come to bed.”

Though she tried to sound persuasive, it came out as a harsh demand. Oliver gulped and instantly stepped into their bedroom, seeming a little intimidated by Jess’s tone. He slowly climbed over all the stuff in the floor to get to their bed, where he hesitated again to look down at his side before carefully climbing in. The feeling of his weight being added to the mattress and the warmth radiating from him comforted Jess more than she thought it would. It was nice to know Ollie was back. Charlie noticed the difference too, because her strawberry-blonde head popped up from the bed and she climbed over Jess to look at him with a big gummy grin.

“ _Da-da-da-da_!” she sang.

“Hey, Charlie,” Ollie mumbled.

His voice was tainted with guilt, almost like he felt bad seeing his daughter’s excitement. Charlie climbed all the way over her mother to get to her father and greet him with hugs. Jess rolled to face the two of them as they interacted, placing her cell phone near the pillow just in case Charlie wanted to watch the baby animals again. The sight of Ollie and Charlie playing made Jess feel better than she had all day. Lucifer may have stolen the scythe, but at least Jess still got to see this lovely sight. Her daughter was safe and happy, and that was the only positive thing that came from Lucifer’s damned trade.

Oliver eventually picked up the phone and started surfing the internet for more funny videos to watch with Charlie as Jess slowly closed her eyes. Now that her small family was together and talking again, she felt comfortable enough to let her exhaustion take over. Pretty soon, Jess felt herself fading out while listening to her husband and daughter’s giggles…

_… And then, there was panic. Nothing but raw, unbridled terror as Jessica sprang up in bed and spun around to see the clock at her bedside table. It was 2:37 AM. The number was bright red on the analog clock and Jess knew she had very little time. It was coming. Something was coming and she had to get everyone out of the bunker_ now.

_She started by shaking Oliver awake and telling him they needed to get out. The poor guy had barely opened his eyes by the time Jess scooped Charlie into her arms and grabbed him by the waist. In a flash, Jess flew them both into the Impala in the garage. Oliver was asking what was happening, what was wrong, but Jess couldn’t answer. She told him to stay put and quickly flew around for everyone else. Jude and Clare were next, followed by her parents. Then Dean and Cas. Then Bobby and Crowley. Then Michael, Adam, and baby Katherine. And finally, Rowena and Meg._

_With her grace, Jess dashed through the bunker to grab everyone and transfer them to the Impala. With each return trip, more and more voices were asking her what the hell she was doing and why they were all being crammed into the tiny Impala. But again, Jess couldn’t answer. She didn’t have time to talk. All she knew was that she had to get her family out as quickly as she could. On the last trip back with Meg and Rowena, some of the family had started to climb back out of the car in confusion. But Jess quickly shoved them all back in. The Impala was a life raft, and the bunker was a ship about to sink._

_Once everyone was packed into the black car, Jess flashed to the hood and placed both of her glowing hands to the metal. As she was about to fly the car away, the concrete floor beneath her feet began to rattle violently. The tremendous movement caused the Impala to shake on its wheels – and a large crack formed between Jess’s feet. The blonde Nephilim gasped and looked down to see the deep crack inching all the way across the floor and the deep void beneath was filled with a bright red glow… A scarlet glow that looked eerily similar to Lucifer’s devilish eyes…_

Jessica sucked in a gasp as she jolted straight up in bed. She was out of breath and sweating all over, feeling as if she had lived everything she saw in her dream. The emotion was still there, driving her to spin around at look to the analog clock on her bedside table.

She watched in horror as the red numbers on the clock switched from 2:36 to 2:37.

“ _Oliver! We have to get out of here!_ ”

Jessica’s shout was enough to wake up her husband and have him scramble around in bed. Just as she did in her dream, Jessica scooped Charlie into her arms and dove across the bed to wrap an arm around Oliver’s waist. She blasted them to the Impala as fast as lightening, leaving them in the backseat in shock.

“Wh – what’s going -?”

“ _Stay here! Don’t move!_ ” Jess ordered.

She was in Jude and Clare’s bedroom in less than a second, flashing over to throw her arms around both of them and fly them to the car in the garage. Their previous horizontal sleeping positions were changed to sitting positions as she shoved them into the back seat with Oliver. Jess caught a glimpse of Jude waking up with a gasp and covering his mouth like he was going to puke before she flew into her parents’ room.

Dad was asleep but Papa was awake, playing on Dad’s phone. Pop asked what she was doing, but Jess couldn’t speak. There was no time to explain. She grabbed each of her parents by the arm and flew them to the Impala as well. Jess pushed them both in next to Jude, who was curled toward Clare. Jess wasn’t sure if Jude had puked or not and she didn’t have time to find out. The next stop was Dean and Cas’s room. Her uncles were cuddled together under their blanket in the dark when Jess sprang onto it and grabbed their shoulders. Uncle Cas asked what was happening as she flew them both to the Impala. They were the first ones to get put into the front seat.

“Jessica, slow down! Tell us what is happening!” she heard her Papa ask, “I can help –”

But he couldn’t help. No one understood how important it was to get out of the bunker except Jessica. She popped into Bobby and Crowley’s room next, grabbing each of them and transferring them to the car. Without even looking at the loaded vehicle, Jess flew to Michael and Adam’s room. Luckily, Michael was already holding Katherine when she came in to take them away, so she only had to grab the two adults. Michael, still holding the baby, was shocked to find himself crammed into the tight Impala with everyone else. Charlie was crying, adults were voicing their confusion and frustration, there was barely any room left in the Impala. But Jess knew there was one more trip to make.

She raced to Rowena’s room to grab the sleeping witch by the arm and flew her to Meg’s room, where Jess grabbed the demon and flew them both back to the Impala. Uncle Dean and Crowley had both gotten out of the car to stand and demand answers from Jessica. But after tossing Rowena and Meg inside with everyone else, she shoved her uncles back into the car and shut the doors. Charlie and Katherine were both crying now, fueling the panic in Jessica’s chest.

Just like it did in her dream, the room began to shake. Loose tools and metal cabinets in the garage started to rattle, adding terrifying sound to the already chaotic scene. Jessica quickly braced both of her hands on the hood and turned her grace on, lighting up her hands to get ready to fly the Impala – and her entire family – to safety. She could feel and hear the large crack beginning to form between her feet, snaking its way across the concrete floor, but she didn’t look down this time. She closed her eyes and focused on the task at hand instead.

With all her might, strength, and grace, Jessica took the massively heavy Impala and flew it out of the bunker. She didn’t go very far, only a few yards up the street outside. But the ground quaked just as much in the open as it did in the bunker. The nearby streetlights overhead flickered and waved around, some falling over with loud smashes and leaving areas in the dark. Trees swayed violently, the ground shook like crazy under her bare feet, and giant spiderweb cracks formed in the road ahead.

Jessica left her hands on the hood, just in case she needed to use her grace to move the car farther away, but turned around to search for the entrance of the bunker in the distance. Seemingly all at once, the great grassy hill that housed the bunker crumbled inward on itself. Jessica’s eyes were frozen on the spot as she felt and heard the massive rumble of earth slowly swallowing her home. A faint red glow peeked through the dirt as it moved, reminding her yet again of Lucifer’s crimson grace. The same bunker that her family had been peacefully sleeping in moments before was nothing but rubble. It was a crater filled with dirt and rock. One second later – _one second later_ – and they all would have been crushed to death…

Minutes passed. The earthquake eventually stopped. And the Bunker remained a sinkhole. Jessica didn’t realize how numb her own hands were on the hood until she heard the car doors squeaking open behind her and people stepping out into the road. Other than the babies crying, no one spoke for several seconds. Everyone only stared at the destruction of their home in horror and shock, still wearing their night clothes. Papa was the first to speak. And what he said made Jess’s blood run cold.

“Dickie…”

Before anyone could stop him, Jess’s Pop was gone. He had vanished into thin air, leaving Dad to shout after him.

“Our dogs were in there, too,” Bobby breathed from the back, “Shit… shit…”

Jess’s icy hands started to tremble as she clung to the cold metal Impala. Oh, no! She had forgotten the dogs! How could she have forgotten all the dogs?! If they were hurt, it was all her fault.

“What is Gabriel doing?”

“H – he must have gone into the bunker… what’s left of it… to search for the animals.”

“What the hell just happened?! Was that an earthquake?!”

“It was Lucifer, wasn’t it? Did you see the red light?! Oh, God, he’s trying to kill us! And we’re just standing here, out in the damn open!”

“Mike, I can’t get Kate to stop crying.”

“I’m going after Gabe.”

“No, Sam, don’t be stupid!”

Luckily, no one had to go after Papa. He reappeared on his own in front of the Impala a few moments later. He was covered in dirt and mud, looking like he had just crawled through a mine. He was coughing and cradling an armful of furry dogs to his chest. Jessica, her Dad, and uncle Bobby all raced forward to meet him as he knelt to the ground to put the animals down. They were all shaken and whining, especially Dickie, who didn’t leave Papa’s grasp.

“It’s okay, Dickster. Papa’s here,” he soothed breathlessly.

Dickie’s back leg must have been broken because he yelped when Papa touched it. With some of his grace, Papa healed the poor dog, making his pitiful whimpers quiet down. Jessica exhaled the breath she had been holding and briefly closed her eyes. Now, she didn’t have to feel guilty about forgetting the family pets… At least, that’s what she thought. Until she turned around.

Two of Bobby’s dogs were nervously running and whining all around him, but one wasn’t moving at all. It was Humphrey, the special one of the group. He was laying on his side and wheezing, sounding like a broken squeaky toy. He must have been crushed under something heavy, because it sounded like his ribcage was squeezing his lungs. Uncle Bobby carefully scooped the little dog up and held him, petting his head.

“Aw, hell,” the old man huffed, sounding on the verge of tears, “It’s gonna be alright, Humphrey… Gabe, can you...?”

Though he was still distraught about Dickie, Papa found the gumption to crawl over and reach out a glowing hand to touch the dog… but it was too late. Poor little Humphrey let out his last breath in Bobby’s arms, just before Pop’s grace could get to him. Papa pet him repeatedly with his golden light, trying so hard to heal his broken little body and bring him back. But Humphrey was already motionless. One of Bobby’s dogs, an animal that Jessica had known all her life, was gone.

“ _Dammit_ ,” Papa huffed, his golden grace glowing brighter as he held it to the dog, “ _Dammit, it’s not working!_ ”

Tears were pouring from Jess’s eyes as she looked up to see the blur of her father kneel next to her Papa in the road and put an arm around him.

“Gabriel. He’s gone,” Dad said quietly.

“No, he’s not. I can fix it,” Pop snapped.

“That’s enough, boy,” Bobby said sternly, pushing Pop’s hand away, “Let the poor dog be.”

Uncle Bobby’s voice was powerful enough to get through to Papa. The archangel’s glow disappeared and he finally dropped his hand away, clenching it into a fist to hit the hard asphalt. He closed his eyes tight and turned toward Dad, who welcomed him into a hug. Rowena and Crowley both stepped forward to kneel with Bobby and offer him some kind of support for losing his dog, but all the old man did was hold Humphrey to his chest and stare off into the distance, almost glaring. Jessica couldn’t help but feel the weight of guilt in her chest. In the rush to get her entire family to safety, she forgot the dogs.

“You knew.”

Jessica tore her still glistening eyes up to Michael, who was looking down at her with suspicion. He was holding his daughter, whose cries had softened to whimpers.

“You knew the bunker was going to collapse,” he breathed, “How?”

“I… had a dream,” Jess admitted.

“Jessica has premonitions about the future. She always has,” uncle Cas explained in her defense, “This time, her gift has saved all of our lives.”

“But our stuff was in there,” Ollie’s voice came from the back of the distraught crowd, “All of Charlie’s stuff…”

“We can’t think about that right now,” uncle Dean calmly replied.

“Dean, all of our hunting gear. The angel blades, the guns, the ammo, the spell books –”

“Sam, it’s okay. They’re all still there,” Dean assured, “They’re just –”

“Buried under a hillside,” Clarence huffed from the back.

“For once, I agree with the demonic sow,” Rowena said, looking around at everyone in the dark as she gingerly rubbed Bobby’s back, “Meg is right. If this was Lucifer’s doing, then sittin’ and talkin’ out here in the middle of the bloody street isn’t a wise decision.”

“Maybe he thinks we’re dead,” Dad guessed.

“He could be watching us right now,” Michael huffed, searching around in suspicion as he cradled his daughter closer to his chest, “We need to get somewhere safe. Quickly.”

“Somewhere safe? Hello! He just demolished the safest place in the world! There is no safe place!” Clare spat.

“Alright, look. We obviously can’t stay in the street. We need to go somewhere else and regroup,” Dean said, stepping into the center of the crowd to address everyone, “I say we temporarily move this party to Jude’s house –”

“Wh – what? Our house?” Jude gasped, looking extremely pale, “Why not Bobby’s?”

“Because Lucifer knows where that is. He’s been there. And he knows it’s the first place we’ll go if we survived this,” Dean answered, briefly gesturing to their ruined bunker, “He’s never seen Jude’s house. Like I said, it will be temporary. We’ll just stay there long enough to get a plan together.”

“Plan?” Crowley scoffed, shaking his head with a sigh, “You Winchester folk never fail to live up to your grandiose reputation…”

“I agree with Dean,” Adam blurted, “It might not be a fool-proof plan, but it beats staying out here and waiting for the devil to show up.”

“I agree as well,” Cas added.

“But, Dad,” Jude muttered, “There’s not enough room for –”

“We’ll make it work, little man,” Dean promised kindly before turning to the rest of the group, “Everybody back in the car. Hurry up.”

Jessica was amazed that Dean could think clearly and take charge so fast after going through something so catastrophic. A majority of the family quickly migrated to the car to squeeze back in. Jess’s parents leaned into each other as they got back to their feet, with Papa sadly holding Dickie in the crook of his arm. Rowena and Crowley both helped Bobby stand up as the old man delicately cradled Humphrey. The other two dogs were whimpering and wandering around their feet. Once up, Bobby turned to give Dean a stern expression.

“I’m going home to bury my dog,” he stated.

“Bobby,” Dean sighed, “We really need to stick together –”

“I said I’m going home to bury my dog, boy,” Bobby growled, slower this time to emphasize each word.

There was no changing the old man’s mind. Bobby was going home to start his grieving process, and no one was going to stop him. Uncle Dean gulped and nodded, lowering his head in respect.

“Okay,” he mumbled, glancing toward Crowley and Rowena, “You three stay together, then. We can’t lose anyone else.”

_Lose anyone else_. That was enough to make Jess’s tears start up again. If she had only remembered the dogs, they wouldn’t have lost anyone… Crowley and Rowena both agreed with nods, bid everyone a farewell, and left with Bobby and his three dogs in a cloud of black smoke. Jess’s Dad pulled her Papa through the dark remnants of their departure, leading him toward the Impala. Everyone had gotten back into the car except for uncle Cas. He stood at the hood and beckoned Jess forward with a gentle gesture.

“Come, Jessica. I will help you move the Impala,” he offered.

Jessica was about to ask why they couldn’t drive, but remembered that the keys were probably somewhere with the rest of Dean’s possessions. With a heart that sat like a heavy rock in her chest, Jessica slunk forward and put her hands back on the cold hood of the car. It was nice to see Cas’s hands rest near hers. His glowed blueish-white and hers turned gold as they thought of Jude’s house only a few miles away, and took their family away from what was left of their home.

* * *

Sam thought that after watching so many of the things he loved get taken away, he would be used to the feeling of acute sorrow and loss. But losing the place he called home for so many amazing years left a special mark on his heart. It was a bleek and horrific reminder that no place was ever really safe. Nothing was permanent. But worse than that, losing the bunker made it clear that Sam was still within Lucifer’s reach.

Jude’s house was tiny, and it was even smaller with thirteen people in it. Jude and Clare generously offered Michael and Adam their bed, so that they could share it with Katherine and keep the baby comfortable. Oliver and Jessica were gifted the tiny couch in the living room, where Charlie quickly fell back to sleep in the bassinette from the half-finished nursery. Clare put Jude in the comfy recliner and slept on the floor beside him for the rest of the night. At least, it was where he would have slept, if any of the adults could actually fall asleep…

Mostly, they drank. And tried to wrap their heads around what the hell just happened. The only ray of light that Sam could see was his daughter’s heroic actions. Jessica was so quick to save everyone, not hesitating for a second. Her fast thinking and even faster grace was able to save every person in their family. Sam couldn’t have been prouder to have her as a daughter than he did that night. He often glanced over to give her an encouraging smile, but Jess always turned away. It seemed like she was mad at herself for what happened to Bobby’s dog. But it wasn’t her fault. It was Lucifer’s fault.

Dean suggested starting a lookout routine. He said they needed to do perimeter checks for Lucifer, just in case the devil found them. Every hour or so, they would change shifts. Dean took the first watch. Then Michael. Then it was supposed to be Gabriel, but Sam could tell that his husband would not be up for keeping watch. Gabriel hadn’t said a word for hours. The archangel only sat in front of the couch and stared at the opposite wall with empty eyes. Dean offered him beer, which he declined. Cas asked if he wanted to talk, but Gabe shook his head. The silence not only worried Sam, it ate at the fabric of his very soul. The sound of Gabriel’s voice had helped him through so many hard times and he needed to hear it now more than ever.

After a trip to the bathroom, Sam noticed that Gabriel was gone from his spot in front of the couch. Cas must have noticed the surprise on Sam’s face, because the angel met eyes with him and nodded toward the far side of the kitchen.

“Gabriel is outside. He said he needed air,” Cas informed.

Sam exhaled the breath he had taken and immediately started for Jude’s backyard. The door to get outside was a little jammed and he had to brace his shoulder to shove it open. The night sky was turning soft purple as the morning approached. Sam was surprised to see fireflies peppered all through the space as he walked further onto the lawn. It was a tiny backyard, fenced in with old wire and an apple tree in each corner. Gabriel was standing next to a lawn chair with his hands at his sides. He was wearing a white tank top and orange boxer shorts – the same clothes he had gone to bed in that night – and dirt was still smeared all over him from where he rescued the dogs. Sam slowly stepped up next to his husband and glanced toward his face, seeing that his eyes were staring blankly toward the plum-colored horizon.

“I’m pissed.”

The words came out of Gabe’s mouth so effortlessly that they surprised Sam. The man nodded, wholly agreeing with his archangel.

“I know –”

“No. You don’t understand,” Gabriel interrupted, gulping so hard that his Adam’s apple bounced, “I’m pissed, Sam. I am beyond livid…”

Sam remained quiet. He could sense Gabriel was about to finally let it all out and he wanted to be supportive. The archangel looked down and rubbed his hands together, brushing the dirt and mud from his palms and fingers.

“Lucifer used to be my favorite brother. Can you believe that?” Gabe said breathlessly, “I used to look up to that bastard… Now, he’s laid his hands on our granddaughter, Sam… He manipulated our daughter into giving him that scythe… He destroyed our _home_ … He hurt _my dog_ … He _killed_ Bobby’s…”

Gabe’s head raised up and he finally looked at Sam for the first time that night. Tears were glistening in his eyes and his jaw was tight.

“Why would he do that to me?” Gabe asked, “I was one of the only ones who stood up for him! He was supposed to be my older brother, not my worst enemy!”

Sam nodded to show that he was listening without interrupting. He couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to be outright attacked by a sibling. He and Dean were lucky enough to have almost always been on good terms. Gabriel furiously wiped his own tears away with his dirty hands and shook his head of blonde hair, looking pitifully frustrated and heartbroken.

“I found those dogs hiding under the kitchen table,” the archangel huffed, “Huddled together and whimpering like puppies… I’m such a selfish asshole. I was so worried about healing my own damn dog that I let Bobby’s slip through my fingers –”

“No,” Sam immediately blurted, easing closer to place his hands on his husband’s shoulders, “Gabriel, don’t do that to yourself –”

“Do what? Tell the truth?” Gabe asked, “I could have saved that dog, Sam. One touch from my grace and he would be alive right now. I wouldn’t be feeling like shit.”

“Actually, you probably _would_ still feel like shit, Gabe. We just lost our house,” Sam grimly pointed out.

Strangely enough, the statement made a breathless chuckle come from Gabe’s mouth. The archangel hung his head and nodded, wearing a weak smile.

“… Yeah. You’re right,” Gabe sighed, “Doesn’t make it better, though.”

Sam exhaled woefully. There had to be some way that he could cheer Gabriel up. The man took the time to cradle both sides of the archangel’s small head and tilt it back up. Sam looked down into the honey colored eyes he had adored for many years and put on his softest smile.

“No. But you know what helps?” he prompted, tracing Gabe’s jawline with his thumbs, “The fact that I still get to look at you. And hold you. And hear your voice.”

Gabe gulped, staring up at Sam with his eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought you said my voice was annoying,” he mumbled.

“It is,” Sam shrugged, “… but I wouldn’t be able to live without it.”

Gabe’s faint smile returned and his eyebrows lowered to morph his face into a slightly smug and hopeful expression.

“So you _do_ love me,” he happily accused.

Sam chuckled once before lowering his head to gently capture his husband’s mouth with his own. Only a small amount of tongue was able to work its way through, leaving the kiss a pleasant and meaningful gesture.

“Yes, Gabe. You’re my husband. Of course I love you, idiot,” the man said against the archangel’s lips.

“Even when I’m in drag?” Gabe asked.

Sam smirked, so glad that Gabe’s spunkiness had remained intact.

“Especially when you’re in drag,” Sam hummed.

“I knew it,” Gabe beamed.

A moment of silence briefly stretched on between them as they held each other close in the early morning light. A cool breeze ruffled their hair and made goosebumps raise on Sam’s skin as Gabe sighed woefully.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

It was such a large and important question that Sam felt intimidated by it. He eventually settled on answering with things he was looking forward to.

“We’re gonna stay together,” Sammy said, “All of us. We’re gonna deal with Lucifer. We’re gonna fix the bunker. And then, we’re gonna have a brand new set of twins in the family. Though, maybe not in that order… That sound good to you?”

Gabe leaned back so that he could look at Sam properly. The momentary glow of a firefly briefly lit the side of his handsome face, making him look extra soft.

“Yeah, Moose. Sounds good to me,” the archangel answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … I am so sorry. I wasn’t lying when I said this would be the lowest part of the story. :( If it makes you feel better, my headcanon is that Humphrey will now happily haunt Bobby at home, always knocking stuff over to show he’s still around. Whenever something falls over, breaks, or goes missing, it’s always ghost-Humphrey’s fault. ;) On the brightside, at least most of the family is still alive and well, thanks to Jessie and her fast reflexes and even faster grace. I promise that the ‘how’ of what happened will be explained better in the next chapter. I tried to soften the blow with some sweet Sabriel fluff at the end there. I know angst is the very last thing most of us need right now, but I promise the story will only get better from here. :) There is a reason Dean is so calm and decisive, (besides the fact that he’s a skilled hunter trained to deal with chaos) and it will be talked about more in the next chapter as well... I just feel awful for giving you this kind of sadness in this climate. :( Please know that I love you and I will make up for it with fluff and sweetness soon! *hugs* I hope that all of you are healthy, happy, and getting to relax at home. Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I hope your weekend is restful and happy! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As strange as it might seem, there is actually some Destiel smut in this chapter. Crazy, right? ;D I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you so much for reading!

Because God refused to show up in a physical form to face Lucifer, the devil decided to take a forceful approach. As usual. It was the only way to get anything done. And since God had a soft spot for that Winchester garbage, Lucifer figured that poking them with a big stick would do the job. If harm came to his precious pets, God was sure to show up and coddle them. So Lucifer chose to destroy their little underground frat house, encasing them in their very own tomb.

When night fell in Lebanon, Lucifer peeked into the bunker to make sure the Winchesters were tucked away nice and neat in their little beds before getting into a good spot outside and using his grace to cause a record-breaking earthquake right under their feet. One long, good shake and that little hobbit hole folded like a deck of cards. Lucifer watched it happen from a good vantage point, just on the other side of the shivering hill. His scarlet grace shined up through the cracks of rubble, turning his smile into a wicked grin. The thought of heavy earth crushing the Winchester’s weak skulls and smashing their guts into paste filled him with delight. He imagined them screaming for each other, shouting with their last breaths in vain. He imagined Castiel and Gabriel crawling out from the ruins and begging for Lucifer’s mercy; joining him in his crusade against God rather than facing the end of Death’s scythe.

Those were the sights Lucifer wished he could have seen for himself, but he was too busy searching the sky and surrounding woods, waiting for God to come down in some divine, over-the-top, chariot of fire to try and smite him. The devil stood proudly by his destructive work for quite some time in the silent darkness, patiently waiting alone with the scythe in his tight grip. But God did not arrive. Lucifer was honestly surprised. Did God not care for those pathetic apes like he thought? Did God allow them to die so that they would all be in heaven together, like some twisted family reunion? That didn’t seem right. God was always taking care of them somehow; changing their diapers, feeding them, cleaning up their messes. Something wasn’t right…

“What? Just gonna let your people die like animals? Like helpless sheep?” Lucifer shouted toward the night sky.

Of course, God was too good to answer him. Lucifer swung the heavy scythe onto his shoulder and glared down at the crater at his side. There was no movement from below. Castiel and Gabriel did not crawl out. All except the chirping of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl, there was no sound. Lucifer was alone. In the dark. In silence. Again. At this point, he was getting used to it. But it didn’t make it any less infuriating.

Lucifer eventually walked over the destruction, deliberately stomping around on the crumbled hill like a child sifting through a ruined sandcastle. He was hoping to hear the voices of his once beloved brothers praying. If Castiel and Gabriel were still alive under all that mess, he would save them. They were still angels, after all. There was still a small chance they could see the light now that the damn humans were out of the way. But Lucifer didn’t hear anything. No calls, no prayers, not even grunting or moaning… Until all of the sudden…

‘ _Lucifer_.’

The devil stopped suddenly and lowered the scythe from his shoulder. He almost couldn’t believe it. That was Michael’s voice, speaking in their native Enochian tongue. And it was coming from somewhere far south of the globe.

‘ _Brother. Can we talk?_ ’

Though he was surprised to hear Michael’s voice, Lucifer decided to indulge the prayer. Maybe Michael had come to his senses and decided to join him against their Father. The devil gripped Death’s scythe tight and flew to the origin of Michael’s beckon call. Michael was standing in a desert in Mexico, dressed in his very own human vessel that wore nightclothes and a jean jacket. Though he appeared different than he did when they were in the cage together, Lucifer recognized him immediately. Michael was completely alone. And unarmed. It was bold of him to face Lucifer, current owner of Death’s scythe, without any back up. Bold, and stupid…

“After all the time we spent together in that cage,” Lucifer said, getting Michael’s attention, “After all the yelling and shouting and begging me to shut up… _Now_ you want to talk to me? Hmm. I guess this scythe is good for something.”

Lucifer twirled the weapon in his hand, allowing Michael to see it and know that if he tried anything, Lucifer could kill him on the spot. Of course, that wasn’t what Lucifer wanted. He never wanted to kill Michael. Only get him on his side… Michael took a deep breath and lowered his shoulders and his voice. They continued to use Enochian, the language they knew best.

“Brother,” Michael said again, as if they actually saw each other as brothers, “I came to try and reason with you.”

“Reason with _me_?” Lucifer scoffed, “You make it sound like I’m the one who’s being unreasonable. Maybe you should take this up with dear old Dad. _He’s_ the one who’s being unreasonable.”

“Our Father didn’t just flatten the Winchester’s home,” Michael said, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer’s smirk weakened. How did Michael know about the earthquake? The question must have been written on the devil’s face, because Michael took a deep breath and answered without being asked.

“I was there,” Michael admitted, “and it did nothing. Our Father gave Gabriel’s daughter a vision of what was going to happen, and she was able to get everyone to safety –”

“ _What?!_ ” Lucifer barked.

The shout was infused with his celestial aura and it echoed through the empty desert like rolling thunder. As Lucifer’s rage gathered, so did the clouds overhead. Lightening – in shades of scarlet, like Lucifer’s grace – streaked across the sky, and miniature versions sprouted between his clenching fingers. _All of those damn Winchesters were still alive?! He took down that entire place and they were still breathing?! No wonder God didn’t show up! He had already saved them beforehand!_ Michael briefly glanced toward the storm in the sky before raising his hands in a calming manner.

“Lucifer,” he said, lowering his sight back to the devil, “Please… I am not here to challenge you. I came to speak with you. I wish to understand why you are doing these things. Tell me what you are trying to accomplish.”

Though he was surprised to hear calm civility coming from his usually aggressive brother, Lucifer took several large breaths to calm himself. He should have known that those Winchesters were like cockroaches. So what, if they were still alive? Lucifer’s plan was ultimately to kill God, not them… The noisy storm above settled but remained a dark and electric cluster.

“I’m going to kill God,” Lucifer spat.

“Why?” Michael breathed.

“Don’t do that,” Lucifer barked, glaring forcefully, “Don’t try to pretend that he’s not responsible for my pain and suffering. He threw me in a cage and forgot me! He swoons over humans and damns his own children!”

“No, brother. Everyone is given a choice –”

“Yeah! A choice to do things his way or suffer the consequences!” the devil growled, “He doesn’t love me! He never loved me! He created me just to make me the enemy and turn me away!”

“You made yourself the enemy. Look at what you’ve done,” Michael replied sternly.

Lucifer thought of all the churches on fire, the dead priests, and the crater back in Lebanon, and smiled handsomely.

“I have. Beautiful, isn’t it?” he hummed, before feeling his smile melt into a glare, “You’re right. I did make myself the enemy. To get his attention. And guess what? He still didn’t show up. I am the ultimate symbol of evil. Unwanted. Unloved. Uncherished… But no longer. I will make Him hear me if it is the last thing I do.”

A hint of pity appeared in Michael’s eyes and it was enough to turn Lucifer’s stomach. The eldest archangel hung his head but raised his sight to the younger with hopefulness.

“You are not unloved or uncherished. Brother, I still care for you. That is why I am here,” Michael stated, taking a deep breath and lowering his voice, “Did you know… Did you know that I have a daughter?”

Lucifer felt his mouth topple open in shock. For a second, he couldn’t tell if what he heard was true. Did Michael just say that he had _an offspring_?! Michael took Lucifer’s silence as positive and smiled as he kept talking.

“With Adam,” he grinned, “I carried her. Gave birth to her… We named her after two people we care deeply for. Adam gave her the name ‘Katherine,’ after his mother… and I gave her the name ‘Lucy.’ After you… Don’t you see, brother? There is love waiting for you in this world, if you would only accept it.”

Lucifer was sure that Michael saw his confession as a way of trying to convince the devil to lay down his weapon and join the rest of the humans in a big, merry embrace, so they could all live happily ever after. But that was far, _far_ from the notion that crossed Lucifer’s mind. The first thing he felt was total and complete _disgust_. Lucifer never saw eye to eye with Michael, but he at least respected him. But not anymore. Michael had spoiled his grace by carrying the offspring of a human. He had defiled his sacred celestial form by fornicating with a lowly ape. And then he blasphemed Lucifer’s name by giving it to that unholy abomination! The gall! The absolute nerve!

“You – you fornicated with an animal?!” Lucifer breathed in disbelief, “You allowed it to ejaculate inside your grace?! You carried its offspring?! _And then you had the nerve to name it after me?!_ ”

A flash of scarlet lightening briefly lit up the dark sky, delivering a loud crack of thunder and letting it rumble through the atmosphere. Michael’s face shifted from hopeful to appalled in seconds, melting into a pained, scornful glare.

“How _dare_ you,” Lucifer hissed, glaring right back, “You’ve fallen so far. Just like Gabriel. I expected better from you, Michael. But you’re just as tainted as the rest of them. Worse, even! Creating an abomination and soiling my name -”

“ _Lucifer_ ,” Michael suddenly boomed in his celestial tongue, “If you continue down this path, you will meet your end. No matter how much you beg and weep and act like a petulant child, God will not come for you. Instead, you will become what you’ve always feared. You will be completely and utterly _alone_.”

That harsh statement caused blind fury to flash through Lucifer in an instant. Without thinking, Lucifer took up the scythe and swung it toward his brother, cutting the air with the curved blade in a blur. He felt the blade connect with something and glanced down to see that he had cut through some of Michael’s clothing. A large, perfect slice had pierced the cloth of his shirt and jacket, leaving a look of horror and outrage on Michael’s face as he raised his head to glare at Lucifer again.

Another, much louder, crack of thunder shook the earth, only it wasn’t from Lucifer’s rage. This time, it came from Michael. The archangel had straightened his back and flashed his own grace, causing the wind to stir and white lightening to clash with the red in the clouds above.

“I came here to help you, Lucifer. But clearly, you are beyond saving,” Michael barked, his vessel completely alight with grace, “If you ever try to harm my family again, it will be war.”

With the harsh gust of a tornado, Michael flew away, leaving Lucifer to stand alone in the desert with the scythe in his hands. One last streak of white lightening lit up the sky with Michael’s departure, making Lucifer scowl toward the heavens until the thunder dissipated. Alone yet again, Lucifer planted the end of Death’s scythe onto the sand at his feet and gripped the neck of it, locking his jaw with a violent mixture of rage, betrayal, and disappointment.

“So be it,” the devil muttered under his breath.

* * *

The Winchester family dealt with losing the bunker in their own ways. Hours on end of silence. Refilling their glasses with liquor every time it went empty. Mumbles of regret and shock. But for Dean, the loss of their home didn’t seem to feel as heart wrenching as it did for everyone else. He struggled to figure out a reason why he wasn’t sad or angry. His guess was that maybe his hunting instincts were still active and wouldn’t let him feel the pain of it yet. That, or he had lost so many things that he was starting to go numb to it.

Dean wasn’t tired, that’s for sure. He spent that whole night making rounds through his son’s house to check on everyone. Sammy, Cas, and Meg sat at the kitchen table together, drinking and muttering every so often. Oliver and Jessica were curled on the couch together, fast asleep in each other’s arms. Jess didn’t close her eyes until after Gabriel kissed her head, and Dean was pretty sure the archangel had used his grace to put her to sleep. Gabriel himself stayed planted in front of the couch most of the night, with one hand on the bassinet that held Charlie. He was like a momma bear, keeping guard of his children.

The most comforting sight of all came from the recliner in the living room. Dean’s son – full grown and glowing like Cas did when he was pregnant – was lying flat on it and sleeping peacefully with one arm over the side. Jude had the whole chair to himself, but Clare’s hand was loosely draped over Jude’s stomach. The demon was laying on the floor with one arm reached up over the chair to cling to Jude. The boys had fallen asleep that way; reaching toward each other. The view made a warm feeling spread through Dean’s chest. It was nice to know that no matter what happened, Dean didn’t have to worry about his child. Or grandchildren. Clare would be there to protect them when Dean couldn’t. Dean carefully stepped over to lean down and peck a kiss to the side of Jude’s forehead. He whispered, ‘ _I love you, little man,_ ’ before finishing his tour around the place.

Dean peeked into the main bedroom to see Adam and the baby sleeping in the large bed, but Michael wasn’t there. Dean wasn’t too alarmed about the missing archangel. Michael was probably doing the same thing Dean was; making sure their family was safe. Dean closed the door and decided to go outside to check on the archangel. Michael was a difficult person to read, always keeping his emotions bottled up like everyone else in the family. Dean waved toward the folks at the kitchen table before heading quietly out the front door and into the cool night air.

Jude and Clare had a very small front yard that housed a single apple tree. Alongside it was the driveway which held Clare’s motorcycle, Jude’s blue Impala, and Dean’s black Impala near the street. The hunter glanced around the small scene, searching for the archangel, but didn’t find him until the second glance. Michael was standing near the hood of the black car, staring out at the street ahead in silence. Though he had never really gotten along with Michael, Dean wandered out to offer him a kind word.

“Hey,” Dean called softly, getting the archangel’s attention, “You okay?”

When Michael turned to face Dean, the man could see a touch of anger on the archangel’s face. Michael was clearly disturbed – and there was a giant rip on the front of his shirt. Dean glanced down at it and felt his own eyebrows scrunch. Damn, did he rip his clothes when they were scrambling to get out of the bunker or something? Michael immediately stuck his hands in his denim jacket to cover the rip, blocking it from Dean’s view.

“I’m fine,” Michael stated, “Just keeping watch, in case Lucifer appears.”

Dean nodded. He didn’t want to make the guy feel anymore uncomfortable than he already did.

“I can take over for a bit. Why don’t you go lay with Adam for a while? Keep an eye on your kid,” Dean suggested.

Michael’s expression shifted to uncertainty. It seemed like he was debating whether or not he should leave his post.

“It’s okay,” Dean urged, “You can hang out with your family for a while. I’ve got this.”

The archangel exhaled heavily and nodded slowly before starting toward the house. Dean eased forward to pass him, going to stand near the Impala for a better lookout point. But then, he felt a hand grab his arm to stop him.

“Dean,” Michael said.

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

There was an indescribable look on Michael’s face, as if he was feeling something so deep that he had trouble expressing it accurately.

“… Thank you for allowing me to be part of this family,” Michael breathed, “Thank you for accepting me, despite my past mistakes… I will do whatever it takes to keep you all safe.”

He was holding onto the rip in his clothes and speaking with absolute honesty. Dean figured that Michael’s blunt and seemingly random statement had something to do with Lucifer’s current temper tantrum.

“Uh, thanks. I appreciate that,” Dean replied, even though he felt a little confused.

Michael nodded, let go of Dean, and turned to finish the journey into the house with everyone else. Dean watched him go until he was completely gone, feeling strange. It wasn’t every day that the oldest archangel in existence showed some humble gratitude. Especially toward Dean…

After Michael was gone, Dean spun around to look down at the driver’s side door of the Impala. Just like everybody else, he was craving a little comfort, and nothing comforted him more than sitting in his car. With a deep breath, Dean opened the door and climbed in to perch himself behind the wheel. The inside of the car smelled like home and the upholstery felt like a dream. Dean ran his hands along the wheel and smiled a little.

“At least you made it, baby,” Dean hummed to the vehicle.

Seconds after the comment left Dean’s mouth, a figure appeared next to him. The sudden flash made Dean gasp and flinch toward the side. It was Cas. The angel had popped into the passenger seat with a look of concern.

“Yes, Dean? Is everything okay?” Cas asked.

Dean sighed and momentarily bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling. Wow. Dean called Cas ‘baby’ so often that the angel automatically assumed Dean was praying to him whenever he said it… Dean cleared his throat and nodded, finding Cas’s added company even more relaxing.

“Yeah, babe. Everything’s fine,” Dean casually answered.

He glanced over to search Cas’s face and attire, which consisted of a pair of flannel pajama pants and one of Jude’s old Batman t-shirts. It was odd to see Cas in something so different than his normal suit, tie, and coat, but they left the bunker in such a hurry that they only had their boxer shorts on. Jude was kind enough to loan them some clothing, but Dean felt bad about not being able to at least give Cas his trench coat back. The whole time Dean was staring at Cas, Cas was staring right back. There was a look of worry in his features that Dean picked up on immediately.

“Dean. Please do not take this the wrong way… but are you feeling well?” the angel asked in the softest tone possible.

“Me?” Dean asked with a shrug, “Sure. I feel fine. Why?”

“Well, we… We just lost our home,” Cas pointed out as delicately as he could, “All of your worldly possessions are buried under rubble. Some of it is likely broken beyond repair. Yet, you seem… You seem unaffected. I don’t mean to offend you by saying that, I only want to understand –”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean assured, “I mean, you’re right. I don’t feel bad at all.”

“Why not?” Cas asked.

The angel sounded genuinely bewildered, just like in the early days, when human emotion was a mystery to him. Dean took a deep breath and reached up to hold onto the steering wheel again. How could he possibly put into words how he was feeling and what he was thinking?

“Well,” Dean began, fixing his sight on his handsome husband next to him, “It’s just like what we talked about other night. Home isn’t a place. It’s a person. And I’ve got my home right here.”

Dean reached over to rest his hand on Cas’s knee, to which the angel instantly placed his on top. Dean smiled, savoring the sensation of Cas’s soft fingers on his.

“Yeah, a lot of our stuff is buried right now, but it’s just stuff. Most of it can be replaced,” Dean went on, “You know, before I met you, Cas, I didn’t have stuff. I just had Sam. So, I’m kind of used to being without it anyway… As far as ‘worldly possessions’ go, I only need three things. A good weapon. This car we’re sitting in,” Dean explained, patting the steering wheel in front of him before raising his left hand to display his fingers, “… and this wedding band.”

The faint moonlight that shined through the windshield caught the sapphire in his ring and made it glisten beautifully. The blue shimmer made the smile grow back on Dean’s face. That was why Dean’s ring was so important to him; not only because it matched the exact shade of Cas and Jude’s eyes and brought him comfort to look at it, but because it symbolized his and Cas’s love. The ring turned their profound bond into a single, tangible object. Decades of devotion, affection, companionship, and love rested right there on Dean’s finger as a constant reminder that everything was going to be okay.

The notion seemed to resonate with Cas, because a look of awe and vulnerability bloomed across his expression as he glanced between Dean’s face and his ring. Without speaking, the angel slid closer, reached out to take Dean’s left hand, and pulled it over to press a gentle kiss to it. Dean smiled, raising his free hand from Cas’s knee up to caress the side of the angel’s face in the dim moonlight. Cas was so sweet…

After kissing Dean’s ring, the angel leaned even closer to bring their mouths together. Dean closed his eyes to indulge the taste, enjoying how eager and willing Cas’s tongue was to meet his. Over the years, Cas had become quite a skilled kisser. He had picked up a few of Dean’s tricks – like the lip nibbling and the loop-de-loop tongue thing – but most of it was self-taught. Dean’s favorite part was the sound and feeling of Cas’s breath rushing out of his nostrils. The hot air breezed over Dean’s cheeks as they kissed, getting harsher and faster the longer they made out. That’s how Dean knew his husband was frisky; by the sound of his labored breathing, and the speed and desperation of his kiss.

But what really threw Dean a curve ball was when a deep whimper hummed from the back of Cas’s throat and he eased across the Impala, raising to toss a leg over Dean’s waist and straddle him. The feeling of Cas’s warm ass resting on his crotch made Dean squeak and break their mouths to pant in surprise. His hands were glued to Cas’s thick thighs as he blinked up at the angel’s face in shock.

“Wait, you… you wanna – ?”

Dean deliberately left the question open, but Cas understood what he was saying. The angel nodded feverishly, briefly biting his lip – which made him look so damn sexy – before lowering his head back to kiss Dean’s gaping mouth. Dean was honestly surprised. Of course, he wanted to have sex with Cas, but he couldn’t believe that the angel wanted to do it _right then_ , in the middle of everything that was happening.

“Cas, are you sure?” Dean forced himself to breathe, even though he could feel his own pants tightening, “The bunker just… and Lucifer… Jude is – ”

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas exhaled, his lips so close to Dean’s that they were panting the same hot air, “The more time you spend talking, the less time we have to fornicate...”

Dean gulped. Well, shit. There was no arguing with that logic. For the moment, Dean pushed all his worry, guilt, and anxiety to the back of his mind and focused on the gift in front of him, which happened to be a small amount of time he got to spend happily banging his husband. Dean dove back into Cas’s kiss, colliding his open mouth with the angel’s again as he leaned forward to reach toward the glovebox. There was a spare tube of lube in there somewhere that Dean kept for urgent bouts of sex. While the two of them furiously made out, Dean blindly rummaged around in the box, feeling for the tube to slide into his grasp.

In the meantime, Cas briefly broke their lips apart to lean back and lift the Batman shirt over his head. Air wheezed out of Dean’s lungs as he blinked at the sight of Cas’s bare chest and stomach in the dim glow of moonlight shining through the car windows. Cas’s dark nipples, the scar on his stomach, and the trail of dark hair that stretched from his belly button into his pants made Dean’s dick twitch excitedly. No matter how many times he saw Cas naked, Dean was automatically aroused by it. The angel cradled Dean’s head with both hands and brought their mouths together again as Dean forcefully started clawing things out of the glovebox. Dammit! Where was the lube?!

Cas eventually reached down and tugged Dean’s shirt off, running his warm hands up and down the man’s bare chest and making shivers race down Dean’s spine. The more Cas moved around in Dean’s lap, the harder Dean’s dick became. He could feel himself becoming desperate. And after emptying the entire glovebox without any lube in sight, the urge to get inside Cas became too much.

“Screw it,” Dean huffed, “We’re going old school.”

Cas made a face and opened his mouth like he was going to ask Dean what ‘old school’ meant, but his breath was stolen when Dean scooped him up and rolled him down onto the front seat. With Cas on his back and legs curled up, Dean took the time to slide the flannel pants and boxer shorts off the angel, leaving him naked on the dark upholstery. Dean’s eyes drank in the sight of Cas’s dick as it bounced out to wave around excitedly. Dean’s husband was completely naked before him, writhing around and spreading his legs for Dean to see every inch of him. Dean almost came right there on the spot. But he had enough willpower to pause and lather his own fingers with saliva, before bringing them down to slide them into Cas’s clenching hole one at a time.

“ _Mmmph_ ,” Cas hummed, rocking onto Dean’s working hand.

Dean slurred some erotic profanities before shifting to slide down his own pants. The feeling of Cas’s hot, tight hole quivering around his fingers was making his dick jealous. With one hand and some maneuvering, Dean was able to yank his own pants and underwear down enough to free the hard, needy shaft.

But in a rush to move into a better position, Dean’s elbow accidently bumped into the steering wheel and honked the horn.

It was a single, short ‘ _beep!_ ’ But it was loud enough to echo through the entire sleeping neighborhood. Dean gasped and looked around before diving on top of Cas, trying to lower himself out of sight. A few neighborhood dogs barked and at least one light came on in a distant window, which made Dean think that some of their family was able to hear the noise too. Oh shit, what if somebody came out to see where the honk came from and found Dean and Cas naked together in the front seat of the Impala? Though he was worried about getting caught, a different sound gained Dean’s attention. It was extremely rare, but something that Dean adored beyond measure… Cas was _laughing_.

It was a deep, rumbling chuckle; the kind that was full of amusement, yet still embodied the depth of Cas’s voice. Dean hadn’t heard Cas laugh so hard in a very long time. He gazed down at the angel under him in awe, watching the humor and delight dance across his precious face. His blue eyes were squinted, and his grin was wide enough to display all of his perfectly white teeth. Watching Cas laugh was like looking into the face of Heaven itself; like beholding everything good in the world all at once. Dean could feel a smile on his own face as he searched Cas’s lovely eyes. He would have been perfectly content to lay there and do nothing but listen to Cas laugh all night…

But his fingers were still wedged in the angel’s hole, beckoning him to continue. After Cas’s laughter settled down to small giggles, Dean nestled his face into the crook of Cas’s neck and kissed his bare shoulder. With the faint serenade of a few barking dogs, Dean transferred some spit onto the head of his dick and carefully maneuvered it into Cas’s hole. The angel’s breath caught a little and he slid his legs higher up Dean’s torso to circle his back, urging him to continue. The feeling of Cas clenching around his throbbing organ coaxed him to thrust. Slowly at first, and then at a more generous pace. The Impala rocked sideways on its wheels with Dean’s movement and the windows started to fog up, making it painfully obvious to any passersby what was happening. But by that point, Dean was beyond caring. So what, if the whole neighborhood woke up and walked over to steal a peek? The only thing that mattered was the amazing mutual orgasm that Dean and Cas were inching toward.

“ _Ahh_ ,” Cas moaned, his deep voice sounding like velvet, “Y – yes… Dean… Please…”

Hearing his husband beg like that did things to Dean that he couldn’t explain. It made him moan, thrust faster, curl inward, and give it all he had. He reached down between their stomachs to grab Cas’s hot, thumping cock and stroke it, which started up a whole new series of aroused groans from Cas’s mouth. The angel panted and rocked his hips with Dean’s motions, creating a rhythm that made Dean’s balls tense up and his eyes roll back. Shit, he was close…

“ _Harder_ ,” Cas cried, gripping the back of the seat with one hand and holding Dean’s head with the other, “ _Yes, Dean! Ahh! Right… There… Gnah!_ ”

Though he didn’t see it, Dean knew that Cas came because his hole quivered rapidly around Dean’s dick and warm, wet fluid splashed all over their heaving stomachs. Dean quickened his pace, digging a knee into the seat so that he could thrust with all his might and catch up with his husband. Only seconds later, he was following right along, pulsing inside Cas as he clung to him and shouted loudly. Dean was momentarily unaware of time. He forgot that he was in his Impala, outside his son’s house, in the middle of a war with Lucifer. The only thing he could think about, always and forever, was Castiel.

Though the intensity of Dean’s orgasm faded, the feelings it gave him remained. He struggled to catch his breath as he rested awkwardly on top of Cas in the front seat. He lazily kissed Cas’s sweaty neck, licking and pecking the angel’s salty skin and feeling the air rush through his throat. Dean hummed at the feeling of Cas’s fingers caressing his bare back as they laid together, blinking slowly and letting the feel-good chemicals take over his brain. He could feel Cas’s heartbeat under his own chest. His and Cas’s hearts were almost beating in sync, gradually slowing down into a calmer rhythm. Laying with Cas after sex was just as good as the sex itself. It was like the world around them was paused, just for a second, to let them have a moment of peace together.

“Cas,” Dean eventually broke the silence to say.

“Yes?” Cas replied softly.

“… You have the best laugh in the world,” Dean admitted.

The leftover orgasm chemicals had probably driven him to say it, but Dean couldn’t help it. Cas needed to know how precious the sound was. The compliment made a huge, handsome smile spread across the angel’s face as the two of them looked to each other in the dim moonlight.

“No,” Cas sweetly denied as he ran his fingers through Dean’s damp hair, “That honor belongs to you, Dean.”

The man smiled. He had no idea that Cas liked his laugh. Maybe all soulmates adored their partner’s laughter. Maybe it was written somewhere in the unofficial rulebook of life or something. But no matter how much Cas tried to dispute it, Dean knew that Cas’s laugh was the best. He lifted his weak head up long enough to kiss Cas’s moist lips again before lowering it back to the angel’s warm chest. Cas nestled into a comfy position too, slowly sliding his bare legs up and down Dean’s back as they lay tangled together in a naked heap.

“Dean?” Cas said, breaking the silence again, just like Dean did.

“Yeah, baby?” Dean hummed with a smirk.

“Will you sing to me?” the angel asked.

In the faint delirium of his post-orgasm stupor, Dean felt much more confident in his singing skill. The nervousness and awkwardness of hearing his own voice was gone and all that was left was the drive to make Cas happy. Dean ran his hands along the angel’s chest and stomach as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“ _Wise men say… Only fools rush in_ ,” he sang, pausing to look up and get lost in Cas’s ocean eyes, “ _But I can’t help… Falling in love with you…_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *happy sigh* :) Yeah, so, in retrospective, it might seem a little unrealistic that Dean and Cas would have sex the very same night that their home was destroyed. But I’m sure stranger things have happened. ;D The bottom line is, we all need some Destiel fluff and smut in our lives right now and couldn’t turn down the opportunity to provide. ;D Something I think I should’ve had Michael point out at the beginning of this chapter is that when Lucifer accuses God of forcing people to do things his way or suffer the consequences, um, hello? Lucifer is literally doing the same thing?? It’s crazy how we fail to see our own faults when we are so busy looking for them in others. ;) Yes, Katherine’s middle name is ‘Lucy.’ Too bad her uncle will never appreciate the thought. :( Michael tried his best, but Lucifer is too far gone now, sadly. :( As for the part when Cas laughs, I looked up a video of Misha laughing so that I could accurately describe how beautiful and perfect the sound is. :D (I recommend you looking it up to watch, because it will definitely leave you smiling.) XD More fluff is on the way for next week too, folks. And I really hope you guys stick around to see it! :D I cannot thank you enjoy for being my lifeline in this dark time. Hearing from you guys and sharing the ‘You Are Not Alone’ sentiment comforts me so much. I love you all! *hugs* Thank you so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	12. Chapter 12

Clare was woken up by a gentle drum against his fingertips. He barely felt it because most of his hand and arm were numb, due to the fact that he was reaching up over the recliner toward Jude. Dim morning sunlight was shining in from the living room window nearby, which illuminated the carpeted floor when Clare blinked his eyes open. He held completely still, letting himself wake up to the sensation of something soft and warm continuously brushing over his dangling fingers. Jude must have been playing with them, as he usually did when they were lazily laying together in the mornings.

But when Clarence sat up from his makeshift bed on the floor, he saw that Jude was still asleep. His blue eyes were closed, his mouth was open and snoring quietly, and his hands weren’t anywhere near Clare’s. Instead, Clare’s hand had been resting up against Jude’s glowing stomach – which was moving ever so slightly. Clare stared at his husband’s bare abdomen, realizing it was nearly twice as large as it was the night before, bulging so much that Jude’s skin was pulled extra tight, and small bumps faintly appeared and disappeared against it from the inside. Jude didn’t wake up Clare that morning. _Their children_ did…

Clare hummed with a smile before leaning over to kiss Jude’s stomach, where the twins inside must have been wrestling each other under his lips. The sheer volume of amazement that overcame the demon briefly left him stunned. It was wild to think that his children were already alive, with beating hearts, playing together inside their shared womb. It was awesome to feel them moving; to know they were shifting around inside Jude’s grace even while the guy was asleep. Clare beamed toward Jude’s adorable face as he held a hand against the warm womb that held their children. Part of him wanted to wake Jude up so that he could share in the moment. But the guy just looked too cute. The kids, however, seemed to be restless.

“Settle down in there. It’s okay,” Clare faintly whispered to Jude’s belly.

Honestly, Clare didn’t even know if they had ears yet to hear him say that. The tiny babies continued to move like they were uncomfortable or nervous. Clare gazed at Jude’s white glow, awed by the sensation of motion under his hand. There was one thing that always calmed his own soul when he needed comfort. Maybe his kids would enjoy it, too…

Being as silent as possible, Clare got up from the floor and made his way through the tiny house. Oliver, Jessica, and Charlie were all sound asleep like Jude. Dean, Cas, Sam, Gabe, and Meg were all at the kitchen table. Sam and Meg’s heads were both down in their own folded arms, like they were dozing, but the rest of them were sipping coffee and mumbling to each other. Luckily, no one noticed Clare as he tiptoed to the hallway closet and grabbed his old guitar. It was his first one; the one that was beaten all to hell. He would have grabbed one of his newer guitars, but they were in the bedroom where Adam, Michael, and their baby were sleeping, and he didn’t want to disturb them. Clare also grabbed a folding chair and brought it back into the living room.

With the chair open and facing Jude, Clare took a seat and brought his guitar into his lap. He briefly ran through a bunch of song options in his head until the best one jumped out at him. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Clare smirked, got his fret fingers into position, and gently started to strum the tune to “Here Comes the Sun.”

It was a Beatles classic, which he knew Jude would approve of. Plus, the song seemed oddly perfect for the situation. The bunker had been destroyed, poor Bobby had lost one of his dogs, everyone was crammed into Jude and Clare’s tiny house, and they didn’t have a single thing ready for the babies… Yet, the sun came up all the same. Warmth and light were still able to break through all that darkness like always. Clare knew better than anyone that no matter how dark and bleak things got, the sun would always come out again. And he wanted to let their unborn kids know that the sun was waiting on them, too.

Jude’s eyes opened to the soft sound and rolled onto his back to smile up at Clare from the recliner. Clare smiled back but kept his fingers plucking the strings, serenading both Jude and their twins with the joyful tune. Though neither of them said a word, Clare knew that Jude was thankful for the song. His hand reached over to rest on Clare’s knee as the demon played, showing his gratitude and affection. After playing the chorus about three or four times, Clare eventually slowed down and finished off the song with one last, long strum. He grinned down at Jude in the silence that followed, sharing a look of love and admiration.

But then, Jude glanced over Clare’s shoulder and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. Confused, Clare turned around to see what made Jude uncomfortable – and found that every person in the house was now awake and staring at them. Even Michael and Adam had come out of the bedroom with Katherine to stand in the kitchen and listen to the song. Clare gulped, feeling a hint of humiliation creep up on him. Shit. He didn’t mean to wake everyone up…

“Sorry,” Clare mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Gabriel smiled faintly, “That was awesome.”

Clare’s own smile returned as he realized that nearly every face looking at him was filled with awe. And Maybe a hint or two of optimism. Clare tightened his left hand around the neck of his guitar before bringing his sight back to the strings. Music was amazingly powerful. And so were the instruments it came from…

“Anybody want coffee?” Dean offered from the kitchen.

There were a few takers on that offer, including both Jessica and Oliver, who checked on Charlie before wandering into the kitchen. Their slight departure left Clare and Jude somewhat alone in the corner of the living room. Jude’s hand raised up from Clare’s knee to hold his hand on the guitar.

“That’s the best way to wake up,” the pregnant angel mumbled, “Thank you, Clare.”

“No problem, Jay,” Clare replied softly, “I was just trying to settle the twins down. They were practically breakdancing in your stomach this morning.”

“I know. One of them kicked me in the bladder last night. I almost peed myself,” Jude admitted.

“What? Really?” Clare almost chuckled.

Jude nodded and wrapped his free hand against his large stomach. Clare thought it was equal parts strange and amazing that Jude could feel everything the twins did. There was life taking place _inside his body_. That must have felt so weird and cool… An expression of delight rose on Jude’s face as he looked back to Clare.

“I think they’re hugging each other,” he breathed.

Clare’s mouth fell open. The twins were hugging each other? Their two children were showing affection toward each other already? Before they were even born?

“R – Really?” Clare asked.

Jude raised up in the chair a bit to reach over and pull Clare’s hand onto his stomach. He firmly pressed Clare’s hand to a specific spot, where he could feel two small masses side-by-side.

“Those are their heads,” Jude explained, “I can feel their arms wrapped around each other. One of them keeps kicking their feet… I think it’s the boy. He must have liked the sound of your guitar.”

Jude’s face was starting to blur because of the moisture building in Clare’s eyes. Holy shit! His kids liked the sound of his guitar! A few breathless chuckles fell out of Clare’s mouth as he gripped Jude’s belly tight with one hand and the neck of his guitar with the other. When his eyes bounced between the two, he caught sight of the word written at the top of the guitar neck, and an idea popped into his head. For a good portion of his life, Clare didn’t have a lot of family. Or a home. Or even a steady supply of meals. He didn’t have much to rely on, except for his guitar. It was special to him in a way that no one else would ever understand. And the bond he shared with music needed to be remembered…

“Gibson,” Clare said out loud.

He raised his head to meet eyes with Jude again and saw confusion on the angel’s face.

“Gibson… A name for our boy,” Clare explained happily.

Jude’s eyebrows scrunched.

“You want to name our son Gibson?” he clarified.

“Yeah. After my guitar,” Clare said, rubbing Jude’s belly as he spoke, “It’ll be awesome. We can call him ‘Gib’ or ‘Gibby,’ and he can tell the other kids that he’s a rockstar or pirate or something.”

There was obvious resistance in Jude’s expression. He must have thought the name sounded dumb or weird for a baby, but Clare loved it. Gibson Winchester; the brand of a guitar and a gun. It was the ultimate badass name. Clare attempted to explain all of that to Jude, in the hope of convincing him to let Clare give their son that name. But giant gust of wind swirled into the living room and silenced the entire house. Clare ducked close to Jude and turned back to see what had entered the room – and found two bright red eyes glowing on a scowling face.

Lucifer had appeared out of nowhere.

The sight of the devil randomly standing in his living room, holding Death’s scythe like a baseball bat, caused Clare to instantly jolt up and hold both arms out. He used his own body as a shield between his pregnant husband and Lucifer. Every person in the room seemed to flash to specific positions at once. A streak of golden grace flew passed Clare, and he assumed it was Jessica flying over to grab Charlie out of the bassinet. The two of them, Adam, and Katherine were pushed to the back of the kitchen while Gabriel, Sam, Michael, Castiel, and Dean formed an immediate semi-circle around Lucifer. Angel blades and guns were drawn by almost everyone present. Even Oliver grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter. It all took place in under three seconds, leaving the family in a defensive stance toward the devil.

But Lucifer didn’t seem to care that he was surrounded by a very angry mob. In fact, judging by the look on his face, Lucifer was more annoyed and pissed off than anything. He twisted his hand around the neck of the scythe and blinked toward everyone as calmly as he could.

“Alright. Here’s how this is going to go,” he grunted, red eyes flickering to each face in front of him, “You assholes are going to pray to your little God and make him appear in front of me, or I’m gonna cut each of you in half, one by one.”

Several shouts came from the family after that statement; so many that Clare had a hard time picking the voices out. Sam growled that Lucifer was a crazy bastard, Gabriel yelled some kind of rageful profanity, Dean barked an order that was clearly dismissed. The only thing that Clare was truly aware of was that Michael drew a sword – a long, sharp, silver, holy looking sword – from out of thin air and pointed the end directly toward Lucifer’s face. The appearance of the divine weapon made every angel fall silent.

“The only one who will die is _you_ ,” Michael boomed.

The tiny hint of a smirk that was twitching on Lucifer’s face vanished. The only thing left on it was disdain and malice. Clare held his protective stance in front of Jude and lowered his own head to glare. For once in his life, Clare was glad that Michael was there to put Lucifer in his place. The devil seemed to debate his odds as he stood at the threshold of the Winchesters’ wrath. His ruby eyes flitted around the room as he gripped the scythe.

Then, just as he blinked, Clare suddenly found himself in a chokehold. The devil had flashed over to wrap a tight arm around the demon’s neck so quickly that Clare didn’t even see it coming. Of course, Clare fought against the devil’s hold, flashing his eyes black and using his demonic aura to try to wiggle out of the hold. But Lucifer’s grip only tightened. Clare heard a few gasps from the family as he struggled to free himself.

“Let him go! Now!” Dean demanded.

“Oh? Is this one of the important ones?” Lucifer asked, his hot breath too close to Clare’s ear, “Good. Unless God decides to show up and save him, his fragile little neck is going to snap like a – _Argh_!”

Clare had used a last-resort trick and donkey-kicked the devil in the balls. He hoped that Lucifer’s vessel could still feel the pain of it, and luckily, it worked. The devil was momentarily vulnerable, leaving Clare just enough time to shift out of his grasp. But when he started to dash toward Jude, there was a violent pull on Clare’s shirt. The inertia was enough to send him flying to his back on the carpeted floor. He thudded and hit his head hard, but was able to look up and see the devil rise the scythe in the air. Clare blinked up at the red glow of Lucifer’s hand as it swung the curved blade toward him. Clare started to hold up his hand to defend himself, even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything. In that split second, Clare actually felt guilty about dying before he would get to see the faces of his twins…

But the blade never connected with Clare’s body. Because Jude caught it in mid-swing. The pregnant angel had flown from the recliner and was now standing between Clare and Lucifer, his entire body glowing solid white. The curved metal of the scythe made a ‘ _clink_ ’ sound as Jude caught it with his glowing hand, and everyone present was staring with open mouths. Jude stopped the blade of Death’s scythe! But it was lethal! How did he stop it?! _Was he going to die?! What about the babies?!_ Even Lucifer looked confused and, for the first time, a little worried. He gazed between the weapon in his grasp and the angel who was blocking it in shock. Jude’s powerful aura was causing the air in the house to turn into a massive wind. The coffee maker in the kitchen and the TV in the living room exploded at the same time, making debris fly everywhere as Jude glared at the devil.

“ _Get out. Or I will kill you myself_ ,” Jude bellowed, his voice deeper than Clare had ever heard. 

Apparently, the devil knew when he was outmatched, because he jerked at the scythe until it was free from Jude’s celestial grip and instantly flew away. Jude kept his grace on for several seconds after Lucifer’s departure, probably to make sure the devil was going to stay gone. Clare used that time to stand up and brace against the harsh winds in the living room. Jude eventually let his grace fade back into his body and Clare took a few long breaths as he stared at the back of his husband’s head with acute terror. What was Jude thinking?! Was he crazy?! He could have been killed! Surprisingly, Clare wasn’t the only one who felt upset, because Cas stepped beside Clare with a worried-mother look.

“Jude, that was foolishly dangerous,” Castiel chastised in a fearful tone.

Clare had to agree with his father-in-law. Even though he had saved Clare’s life, Jude had put his own – and their _twins’_ lives – at risk. Jude slowly turned around to face the rest of the room, and Clare realized that he was wobbly on his feet. Jude braced a hand on his round stomach and paused to blink, just as a drip of red blood ran out of his nose. Clare gasped as Jude reached up to touch his leaking nostril and draw his hand back to look at the blood. Holy shit, Jude was bleeding! Why?! Seeing the red liquid was just enough to tip Jude forward. Clare jutted close to catch his husband as he fell, taking all of Jude’s weight into his arms.

“Jude!” he gasped.

Cas flew over to help the demon as the two of them carefully laid Jude in the floor. The older angel used his own grace to quickly assess his son as Jude’s eyes fluttered shut. Clare panicked internally as his mind jumped to horrible conclusions. What if he was dead? What if their babies were dead? What if Clare never got to see either of them? What if Jude was gone forever?!

“What happened, Cas? Did he pass out? Is he going to be okay?” Dean asked in a blur.

“He is breathing and is heart is beating steadily. It appears Jude is only unconscious,” Castiel quickly answered, “He must have overused his grace. His physical body needs time to recover from the daunting strain, especially since it is in the process of creating new life.”

“Wh – what about the babies?” Jessica asked timidly.

“His hand, Cas. Check his hand,” Dean suggested worriedly.

Cas reached for Jude’s belly first, feeling it with his own grace. After prodding the bright, swollen belly for a few moments, he raised Jude’s hand up to inspect it. There was a faint line on the palm of his hand, but not enough to draw blood. Clare watched it all happen as he cradled Jude’s head in his shaky arms.

“The twins seem to be shaken, but unaffected. Their heartrates and brain activity are normal. Jude’s body suffered minimal damage from the scythe, but I will keep a close eye on him for any changes,” Cas explained, shaking his head toward Jude’s closed eyes as he gently stroked Jude’s hair, “Why… Why must you be so self-sacrificial, son?”

Jude didn’t wake up to answer, but Clare knew what it would be. Jude was self-sacrificial because he thought he was Superman. His family was his life, and he would do anything to keep them safe. But that didn’t make it okay for him to jump in front of Death’s scythe. Clare would have preferred to die by Lucifer’s hand than to ever witness his husband and unborn children in the same position. As he stared down at Jude’s closed eyes and the line of dark blood under his freckled nose, Clare could feel his own heart pounding with rage and fear.

A day that had started out so sweetly was now shot to hell.

* * *

The faint hum and gentle tingle of raindrops in his grace slowly stirred Jude into awareness. He knew that he was laying somewhere soft and comfortable, on his back with both arms at his sides, but he couldn’t quite get his eyes open. The tiny taps of vibration through his grace kept him company as he laid still. Then, he felt the shift of a small body – or two – moving inside him, and realized he was feeling his babies. They were rolling around again, kicking and tilting their heads within the confined space of his stomach as if they were uncomfortable. The twins were pressing at his ribcage and against his organs, trying to make their distress known. The slight pain in his lower back and the ache in his stomach were what forced Jude to open his eyes.

The familiar scent of his and Clare’s bedroom filled Jude’s nose as he blinked up at the dim ceiling. Jude was laying under the covers in the bed, with faint orange light shining across his torso. From the view outside the window, Jude assumed it was evening time. The sun was setting, which meant he had been asleep for a while. Thankfully, he spotted his husband’s shaggy blonde hair nearby and exhaled with relief. Clare was sitting in a chair next to the bed, staring blankly toward the far wall. Clare’s legs and arms were both crossed, and he was almost glaring. Why did he look so mad?

“Clare?” Jude called. 

Jude’s throat was severely dry, which made him cough after speaking. Clare raised his head and sat up straight, leaning forward in the chair before turning toward the door.

“Cas. He’s up,” Clare said.

For a second, Jude was confused. Why didn’t Clare look at him when he spoke? Papa instantly appeared in the room and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. He reached out to hold Jude’s head with both hands, inspecting him like a doctor.

“Be careful, son,” Pop cautioned, studying Jude’s eyes, “How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? Can you state your full name?”

Jude gulped, but wiggled his toes under the blanket without a problem. Why was Pop asking those kinds of questions? He was starting to freak Jude out.

“J – Jude Robert Winchester,” he breathed, glancing timidly between his worried Papa and angry husband, “What’s going on?”

“Do you remember what happened before you fell unconscious?” Pop asked.

Jude blinked repeatedly, still feeling anxiety starting to creep up on him. Of course he remembered what happened. Lucifer showed up and tried to kill Clare with Death’s scythe. How could he forget?

“I saved Clare,” Jude answered.

He glanced over to share a look of love with his husband, but only found Clare still scowling toward the wall. It was almost like Clare didn’t want to look at him; like he was avoiding Jude’s stare on purpose. But why would he do that?

Across the room, the bedroom door opened and Dad walked in. He closed the door behind him when he entered, probably to give them all some privacy. He stepped over with his hands in his pockets to smile down at Jude.

“Hey, little man,” he said fondly, “I’m glad you’re awake… Cas, is he alright?”

“Yes. He appears to have full cognition,” Pop answered.

Jude looked between his parents with his eyebrows scrunched. Why was everyone so worried about him? Was it because he fainted? Because of how far along he was in the pregnancy? Jude rested a hand on his stomach, where the twins were still shifting around in the bright light. They were both so uncomfortable…

“Boys, listen,” Dad sighed, talking to Jude and Clare, “We appreciate you letting us all stay at your house, but it’s not an ideal place to be right now. Lucifer found us here and he can come back whenever he wants, which isn’t good.”

“The family has been discussing safer options, and we have decided to move everyone to a more familiar location. A place that can easily be warded against Lucifer,” Papa said, pausing to glance at Dad before looking back to Jude and saying, “The place where you were born, son.”

Jude gulped again and glanced between his parents. He had never been to the place where he was born, but he had heard the story many times. It was a cabin that had been warded against angels on the outside, but from what Jude remembered, the wards didn’t quite work. They ended up getting ruined with rain or something. Hesitation must have been clear on Jude’s face, because Dad quickly continued.

“We’re gonna fix up the cabin, and we’re gonna do it right this time,” Jude’s dad assured, “The only catch is that all the angels need to be inside first. Sam, Adam, Oliver, Meg, Clare, and I can get the wards done fast. I’ve already called Bobby and told him to meet us there when he’s ready.”

“We just have to move you there, Jude. And that means flying,” Papa muttered quietly, looking at him pitifully, “I know you dislike the thought of flying, especially in your delicate state, but it would save a very large amount of time.”

“And it has to happen now. We can’t let Lucifer attack us here again. I need you to be packed up and ready to move in the next fifteen minutes. Okay?” Dad asked.

Dad was wearing his classic ‘stern but reasonable’ face, so Jude knew he was being serious. The only thing the pregnant angel could do was lay there and nod. He was so overwhelmed that he almost felt paralyzed. Not only was Jude on the verge of giving birth to twins, but his family was currently homeless and actively being chased by the devil, who was armed with Death’s scythe. It was like a bad dream come true. Especially since Clare still wouldn’t look at him…

Papa nodded, gently patted Jude’s shoulder, and stood up from the bed to join Dad. The two of them started for the door, only pausing to give Jude and Clare a last glance before walking out of the room and closing the door again. As soon as they were gone, Clare got up and went to the closet to dig around inside. Jude cradled his own stomach – attempting to get the babies to stop crushing his organs so much – as he watched his husband pull out a duffle bag and start filling it up with clothes from their drawer. Clare still hadn’t said a word to him, and the silence was starting to make Jude panic a little.

“Clare?” he called.

Clare didn’t answer at first. He shoved various shirts and underwear into the bag without turning around.

“What?” the demon eventually spat.

The harsh tone made Jude sick at his stomach. Why was Clare so mad? Did something happen while Jude was asleep? Why wouldn’t he look at Jude?

“Are… Are you mad at me?” Jude squeaked.

Clare spun around and threw the duffle bag on the floor, making Jude flinch back in the bed.

“ _Yes, I’m mad at you!_ ” Clare shouted, glaring at Jude with tears in his eyes, “What the hell were you thinking?! Do you know how _stupid_ that was?! You jumped in front of that damn scythe without thinking! It could have _killed_ you!”

Jude was shocked to hear such a loud tone coming from his husband, but he knew that Clare wasn’t exactly angry. Just scared.

“Clare, I did it to save you,” Jude tried to explain.

“Save me?! What would be the point of saving me if you were dead, huh?!” Clare barked, liquid spilling down his cheeks as he violently gestured to the whole of Jude’s glowing body, “You would have died! And _taken our kids with you_! You would have left me here _alone_! _All three of you_ would be gone! You can’t do that to me! I can’t be here if you’re not here, Jude! Dammit!”

“What was I supposed to do, Clare? Just let Lucifer kill you?!” Jude asked.

“Yes!”

“No!”

“ _Yes!_ ” Clare said more forcefully, his voice cracking as he stepped even closer to the bed, “If it comes down to you and our kids or me, _I’m_ the one who’s dying! Not you! Not _any_ of you! Dammit, Jay, don’t you _ever_ do that to me again! Don’t you _ever_ jump in front of a scythe for me! _Never again!_ N – Never! Never. Never, never…”

The end of Clare’s shout turned into a choked-up sob and he fell onto the bed to wrap his arms tight around Jude’s shoulders. The sound tugged at Jude’s heart so much that he teared up, too. Man, he didn’t mean to make Clare so upset. He was only trying to save him. Jude closed his eyes and instantly hugged Clare back, nestling his head against the demon’s quivering shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Clare… I wasn’t thinking,” Jude admitted in a whisper, “I only wanted you to be safe.”

Clare just sniffled on Jude’s shoulder and clung to him like a kid with a teddy bear. Jude wished there was something he could say to comfort his whimpering husband, but he couldn’t come up with anything. All he could do was hold him and repeat his apology in a whisper. Then, as they held each other, one of the twins lurched in Jude’s stomach and kicked his side, making him suck in a breath. Clare heard the gasp and immediately sat up to look Jude over.

“What?” he asked, wiping his tears away to see better.

Jude grimaced and held a hand to his round belly, where he could almost feel the outline of a tiny foot pressing hard against his palm.

“The twins are upset,” Jude guessed, “They keep moving.”

Clare gulped and reached down to cradle Jude’s stomach with both hands. Jude was sure that Clare could feel the commotion. The babies were wallowing so much that Jude’s body was starting to hurt. The angel took a few deep breaths, hoping that would help them relax. But the only thing that truly helped was when Clare started to rub his hands against the tight skin. Not only did the demon’s soothing touch help dull Jude’s pain, the twins seemed to calm down too.

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Clare hummed to Jude’s brightly lit womb, “It’s okay… I’m sorry for yelling… We’re okay… Everything’s okay, now...”

Clare’s soft murmurs not only reached Jude’s stomach; They reached his _heart_. Despite all the pain and terror Clare was feeling, the demon was still able to bring peace to their unborn children. He was being such a good father, comforting their babies in a way Jude never could. The sound of Clare’s voice alone was enough to still their limbs and give them relief. Jude felt unworthy to have him…

“I really am sorry, Clare,” Jude said again, resting his hand on Clare’s against his stomach.

Clare continued to rub Jude’s belly, circling the tight skin in a hypnotic rhythm as he looked up to meet eyes with Jude again. There wasn’t a single ounce of anger left in his expression. Clare was openly apologetic and ready to accept affection.

“Me too,” he breathed, shaking his head before resting it against Jude’s, “Just don’t ever leave me, Jaybird. I love you so much –”

“I love you, too,” Jude instantly replied, smiling a little as he felt the raindrops playing in his grace, “… and so do our babies.”

Clare leaned back to furrow his eyebrows, looking skeptical.

“What?” he asked.

Jude allowed himself to wear a full smile as he patted his own round belly.

“Gibson and his sister. Our babies. They love you. Whenever you get around me, they calm down,” he explained.

Hearing Jude endorse the name Gibson must have made Clare incredibly happy, because his eyes lit up and a smile finally flashed on his face. His eyes were still gleaning with tears, only this time from delight. He gave a breathless chuckle, which made Jude do the same.

“Y – you like the name?” Clare asked.

Jude smirked and bobbed his head. It sounded a little strange at first, but it was slowly growing on Jude. Especially after seeing how happy it made Clare to hear it. The demon leaned down to kiss Jude’s belly, sounding like he was on the verge of bursting into giggles.

“Congrats, Gibby! You’ve got a name,” he said before looking to Jude, “Our sweet baby girl needs a name, now.”

“I know,” Jude answered, gazing down at his own glowing belly, “I’ll pick one out for her… as soon as we get to a safer place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for shoving angst inside the fluff sandwich of this chapter. It’s probably a little gratuitous at this point, but Lucifer is getting bolder and caring less as the story goes on. I looked it up, and fraternal twins are actually in different sacs inside the womb, so in reality, Jude and Clare’s twins wouldn’t be able to actually hug each other in the womb. Luckily, this is a story about a male demon and a male angel having babies, so maybe we can let it slide. Lol! XD I hope you guys like name Gibson for the boy. (It’s a little off the wall, but so is Justice, Zeppelin, and Arrow. And I love those names.) ;D The reason Clare mentions that Gibson sounds like a pirate name is because it reminded me of Mr. Gibbs from Pirates of the Caribbean. (Gabe’s totally gonna call him that. Lol) ;D The girl’s name is still to come, but I’ll give you a hint: It also starts with a ‘G,’ and it has been mentioned throughout this entire series multiple times. (It’s kind of obvious, actually. But Jude has a very good reason for giving her that name. You’ll see by the end.) ;) But it’s still to come! I really hope that all of you are hanging in with everything that is going on. If you are grieving or struggling, I’m here if you need someone to talk to. Thank you all so much for being with me, not only for this story, but just being a lifeline in these trying times. I love you all! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	13. Chapter 13

“Jude, when this flight begins, do not use any of your grace. It is vital that you allow me and Gabriel to carry you. If you attempt to use your grace for anything other than as a womb for the fetuses, it will likely put their lives at risk… Understand?”

Despite the harsh tone of Papa’s demand, Jude found it comforting. Just like when he was a child, Jude was relieved to know that his parents were in charge. Their family had been through some terrible things, but always survived. They were experienced with having time constraints, few resources, and being backed into a corner. With Dad and Papa at the helm, Jude didn’t have to be afraid of flying. Or giving birth. Or even facing the devil. And with Clare holding his hand, Jude could do it all blindfolded.

“Yes,” he nodded.

Papa raised his head to look at Gabriel and beckon him close. The whole family was gathered in Jude and Clare’s living room, preparing to fly to wherever the cabin was. Michael and Jessica were taking a majority of everyone else, while Papa and Gabe focused on Jude. They took hold of each of his arms, and Clare discretely snaked his hand passed Papa’s side to grab Jude’s. Jude clasped it tight and gave his husband a small smile before feeling the adults’ grace shine on his skin. Once everyone was into position, the flight started.

And it was over faster than Jude could blink his eyes. In fact, it was the easiest flight of his life. Jude held still after it was over and kept waiting for nausea to creep into his stomach to make him sick, but it didn’t. He felt completely normal. The only thing he could feel coming from his grace was acute hunger and thirst. Ugh, he needed a meal so badly. Upon landing in the dark, dusty, cold room, Papa immediately reached up to hold Jude’s head with both hands and look him in the eye.

“Do you feel faint? Do you need to lie down?” he asked.

“No. I’m okay. I’m just… hungry,” Jude admitted.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Uncle Gabe sighed, patting Jude’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, sidekick. I’ll gather up some grub. Whatcha craving?”

Jude held his extremely large stomach – which stuck out so far and shined so bright that it could have been mistaken it for a New Year’s Eve ball – and smacked his lips together, trying to figure out what the twins wanted.

“… Stuffed-crust pizza,” he eventually answered, “and watermelon… and chocolate milk.”

Uncle Gabe chuckled, probably because the items sounded so random.

“You’ve got it, kiddo. Be right back.”

When Gabe flew away, more family members started to appear in the room. As Jude looked around at them all, he realized that he hadn’t taken the time to assess the cabin itself. The room they were standing in was spacious with a tall ceiling, but it felt moist inside; almost like an abandoned shack that had been forgotten deep in the woods. There was a couch, fireplace, end tables, and a few shelves scattered throughout the room, as well as a set of bunkbeds in the far corner near the window. Dust and bits of mold covered everything, showing that it had been untouched for decades at least.

The part of the room that drew Jude’s attention the most was the wide, darkened spot on the wooden floor near the fireplace. It looked like some kind of dark liquid had soaked deep into the wood, some part smeared. There were also blackened spots on the walls and furniture, as if it had been the site of an explosion. Jude didn’t get a chance to take a good look at any of it though, because Papa stepped up to block his view.

“As you and Clarence were packing a moment ago, your father and I came here and attempted to clean the cabin of debris, but I’m afraid some of the damage is permanent,” Pop said, his face reddening slightly as he turned to the side and gestured toward the large dark spot on the wooden floor, “This… is where you were born, son.”

Jude gulped as he cradled his own heavy belly and blinked at the blackened floor near the fireplace. It wasn’t just ‘damage’. It was a giant twenty-three-year-old bloodstain. It was the spot where Jude’s angelic father had to cut himself open and pull Jude out of his grace. It was the spot where they got to see, hear, and touch each other for the first time. While the thought of Papa being in pain hurt him, Jude felt oddly proud to be standing on the same floor that was so integral to their history. In the momentary silence, Jude felt Clare’s hand squeeze his own.

“This place should be a museum,” the demon mumbled.

The sincerity in Clare’s voice made Jude smile. It was nice to know that Clare wasn’t too creeped out by the old bloodstain. Papa rested his hand on Jude’s shoulder and gave it a small tug. With one hand on his stomach and the other in Clare’s grasp, Jude followed his papa through the small living room and into the kitchen, where the older angel opened a pantry door in the back. Beyond was a small room that clearly used to have shelves and canned goods along each wall. But everything had been removed, and in its place, a single twin-sized bed had been situated inside. The lone lightbulb that shined overhead was barely enough to light the tiny space, but Jude’s round stomach added to the illumination. As he studied the pantry, Jude noticed that Enochian had been written all over the walls in dark ink. Jude was a little rusty with his studies of Enochian, but assumed they were part of a protection spell or ward.

“Jude, when the time comes for you to give birth, we shall do it here. It is the only space in the cabin that does not contain windows, thus it will be the easiest to ward off an attack, should Lucifer find us,” Papa explained, “Gabriel, Jessica, and I will assist you, but everyone else must remain outside –”

“But, what about – ?”

“That includes Clarence. Especially Clarence,” Papa answered, his eyes filling with guilt as he glanced between the two of them, “I’m sorry, son… but your grace is simply too overwhelming. It would harm Clarence in a matter of seconds.”

Jude opened his mouth to argue the fact that he wanted his husband to be present when their children came into the world, but he felt a small tug on his hand and turned to see Clare wearing a peaceful look.

“It’s okay, Jay. I don’t think I could stand seeing you get cut open anyway. Probably for the best if I wait outside,” he muttered.

A shudder raced down Jude’s spine. _Cut open_. How could he have forgotten that he would have to be cut open with an angel blade? Though he was momentarily frightened by the thought, Jude was able to push it aside for his family. Jude wanted to be strong for Clare and their – currently hungry – children. A gurgle came from Jude’s belly, making him grimace and cradle the side. Clare was on the verge of asking if Jude was okay when Dad walked into the kitchen. His heavy boots thunked up and gained everyone’s attention.

“Clare,” he called, nodding toward the door across the room, “Let’s go. We’ve gotta get these wards put up.”

Clare straightened his back and nodded once before turning to meet his lips to Jude’s. The angel’s eyes automatically closed to savor the taste of the demon’s kiss. It was more serious than Jude had ever felt it before. Full lips and just enough tongue to keep it professional. Clare slowly pulled back to stare into Jude’s eyes afterward and give his hand a good squeeze.

“I’ll be back, Jaybird,” he promised.

Jude was so starstruck by Clare’s handsome face that he could only nod in return. He watched his husband follow his father through the cabin to the door, where uncle Sam and Adam joined them. Jude caught sight of a small kiss shared between Michael and Adam – something that was quite rare, because they almost never showed affection in front of other people – as Katherine was passed from Adam’s arms to Michael’s. Oliver went with the gathering group of ward-makers at the door, while Jessie stayed behind to change Charlie’s diaper on the dusty couch.

“Son.”

Jude turned around to see his Papa holding out a chair at the kitchen table.

“Come. Sit and rest for a while. You must be in pain,” Pop said.

Papa was right. Jude was definitely feeling the strain in his back and the swell of his feet. Jude hobbled over to sit down in the chair and took a deep breath, still holding his belly with both hands. By now, the light had gotten so bright that his shirt barely hid it. He was honestly surprised that the fabric hadn’t spontaneously burst into flames, given how much heat his grace was generating. Once seated, Papa disappeared and reappeared with a few pillows in his hands. He gently shoved one behind Jude’s back, giving Jude’s tight muscles better cushion. Pop also pulled another chair in front of Jude and placed a pillow on it.

“Here. Elevate your feet,” he instructed.

“Pop, you don’t have to go through all this trouble. I’m really okay,” Jude tried to explain as he leaned back to rest his feet on the soft pillow.

“I know... But your father did this for me when I was pregnant with you. I believe this practice is called ‘paying it forward,’” Papa hummed, smiling a little.

Jude gulped hard. Somehow, the thought of Dad being so sweet to Papa during his pregnancy made Jude feel like crying. He did everything he could to hold down tears because he didn’t want to alarm anyone. Thankfully, Michael was able to cause a distraction. He came in with Katherine in the crook of one arm and a purple diaper bag in the other. 

“Jude,” the archangel said as he placed the bag on the table and zipped it open, “I noticed that you did not have any clothing for newborns in your house, so I went through some of Katherine’s and picked out a couple for when your infants arrive. Here.”

Jude sat up straighter and watched as Michael laid out two onesies. The first was plain white and the other was plain gray; both simple and sweet. Seeing the clothes laying side-by-side, so small and made of such delicate material, nearly took Jude’s breath away. It was hard to think that in a matter of days, there would be actual bodies in those clothes. Adorable faces to go with the cute outfits. Michael also laid out a small stack of diapers before scratching the back of his head.

“I only brought one bottle with us, but I would be happy to get you more -”

“Thank you, Michael. But it’s alright,” Papa interrupted, “Dean and I have discussed the dilemma, and we plan to purchase a surplus of infant necessities once the twins arrive. With Lucifer about, it’s unsafe to travel at the moment.”

“I know,” Michael agreed sadly.

It seemed like the two angels were going to start a long discussion about their rebellious brother, but uncle Gabriel popped into the kitchen – and the scent of food that came with him made Jude’s mouth water instantly.

“Did somebody order stuffed crust pizza?” he playfully sang.

“Gabriel,” Michael huffed, “Where have you been? We were just talking about how unsafe it is to be traveling while Lucifer is –”

“Relax, Mikey. Pull the stick out of your ass. I was just getting the pregnant Nephilim some food,” Gabe huffed.

Jude reached out with both hands as uncle Gabe handed him the steaming pizza box. Jude flipped it open and tore off a piece of pizza before violently shoving it into his own mouth without even looking to see which toppings were on it. That first bite was almost as good as having sex with Clare. Jude let out a long ‘ _Mmmm_ ’ as he chewed, swallowed, and went for another bite. Uncle Gabe placed a gallon of chocolate milk on the table too, along with some pre-sliced watermelon.

“Here ya go, sidekick. I went ahead and picked out all the seeds for you. I know how much those things suck,” Gabe nodded.

Though his mouth was stuffed to the max, Jude attempted to say, ‘thank you,’ but it came out as ‘frunk froo.’ Gabe only chuckled once and waved a dismissing hand.

“Ah. You’re welcome. Just make sure you chew it, alright? Don’t wanna get any food stuck in those umbilical cords,” Gabe winked.

Jude paused, holding the food in his mouth in shock. Wait, could that actually happen? Could food really get stuck in the umbilical cords? Or was Gabe just trying to be funny, like always? Even though he was pretty sure his uncle was joking, Jude still took extra time to chew his food before swallowing it. As he ate, Jude realized that he was sitting in a room with all of the adult angels in his family. Michael, Gabriel, and his Papa Cas, the best heroes that Heaven had to offer, were there – and strangely silent. It was odd to see them act so differently; especially uncle Gabe, who was usually a nonstop chatterbox. Jude assumed it had something to do with Lucifer, because he was their brother. And the subtle conversation that soon began seemed to confirm Jude’s guess.

“He’ll find us here. The Earth is a small planet. It’s only a matter of time,” Michael uttered under his breath.

“Way to pep up the troops, Mike,” Gabriel growled.

“Michael is just being honest and realistic,” Papa gently interceded, “Personally, I wish to know why Lucifer is targeting us.”

“Because we’re the Winchesters. _Everyone_ targets us. We might as well have giant circles painted on our backs,” Gabe spat.

“It’s not just that,” Michael murmured, softly swaying around in place as he stared down at his sleeping infant, “Lucifer feels he is… uncherished by our Father. He believes our Father has abandoned him. Turned him into the enemy.”

“Uh, what?! Daddy didn’t turn him into an outcast! Luci _chose_ to be the black sheep!” Gabe argued. 

“He doesn’t see it that way,” Michael denied calmly, “In his eyes, God is to blame. Lucifer seeks revenge. He craves justice for what happened to him. Now, with Death’s scythe, he is both the plaintiff and the judge. And because we stood against him, we are not just witnesses to his plight anymore. We are on trial along with God. Lucifer doesn’t care who is harmed in his crusade, only that he gets what he rightfully deserves.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll get what’s coming to him,” Gabriel nodded, his eyes narrowed toward the dusty window.

“Gabriel, please. We must not let ourselves get stuck in the tarpit of revenge like Lucifer,” Papa sighed.

“Did you forget about the bunker already? About Singer’s dog? Because I haven’t,” Gabe snapped.

“No one has,” Pop answered, voice still calm, “but hurting Lucifer won’t undo what has already been done. It will only lead to more heartache.”

Though Gabriel clearly wanted to argue, he held his tongue and turned away to grimace. Jude watched and listened to the whole conversation as he slowly ate away at the pizza, not wanting to interrupt the serious conversation. But one of the twins suddenly lurched in his stomach and made him drop his food in shock. The sound of his gasp made the older angels all look toward him as he held both hands to his large stomach. It almost felt like one of the babies was trying to stand up in the womb.

“Son? What’s wrong?” Pop asked, kneeling to the floor next to him.

Jude gulped down the food in his mouth so that he could breathe and talk.

“The babies are uncomfortable. They have been since yesterday,” he explained, “Am I sitting the wrong way or something? Am I putting them in pain?”

“I doubt that, son. It is likely they are adjusting to their rapidly growing bodies. May I?” Papa asked.

He reached his hands out like he was going to reach for Jude’s belly, so Jude nodded and lifted his shirt. The light was so intense that it lit up the whole kitchen. Pop placed his hands on the round stomach and brought his grace out like usual – but then, he recoiled with a gasp. Jude, Michael, and Gabe all instantly looked to Pop with worry, wondering what made him jump back. Oh no, was something wrong with the twins?! What did he feel?! Papa gulped as he rubbed his hands together with a look of concern.

“Castiel?” Michael prompted.

“It… burned me,” Papa admitted, lifting his blue eyes to Jude’s, “Your grace has become too strong for mine, Jude. I’m sorry...”

Jude was tempted to freak out. If his own Papa couldn’t feel his babies now, how in the world was Jude going to know if everything was okay?! Luckily, uncle Michael stepped over and held Katherine out to Gabriel. The shorter archangel gently took the sleeping baby so that Mike could kneel down next to Papa. Without saying a word, Michael reached out to cradle Jude’s belly. The sensation of Michael’s grace meeting Jude’s was a little jarring. In fact, Jude felt like telling the archangel that he should have asked for permission before jumping in like that. But the twins settled down and Michael’s expression remained serene.

“They seem content. Steady heartbeats. Lungs are working. They have decent room to move,” Michael paused to smile a little before looking up at Jude, “Your daughter is enjoying the pizza.”

A smile flashed on Jude’s face, and the tingle of fresh tears came with it.

“Sh – she is?” Jude asked.

Michael nodded, shifting his hands and grace around a bit.

“She favors the garlic and salt. The amniotic fluid allows them to taste it,” the archangel explained, “She is awake, but your son is asleep. Perhaps she is trying to wake him.”

Jude chuckled breathlessly, feeling a drop of hot liquid run down the side of his grinning face. He was stunned that his children were already so alert; that they could taste food, sleep, wake, and interact with each other. It was amazing! It was a miracle…

“I – I have to tell Clare,” Jude blurted.

“Later, son,” Papa replied, resting a hand on Jude’s shoulder, “For now, let yourself rest and enjoy your meal.”

After Michael released Jude’s belly and raised to his feet, Jude grabbed another slice of pizza and bit into it.

“This one’s for you, baby girl,” he said, voice muffled by food as he patted his own belly.

He felt the outline of a tiny foot against his skin; a gesture of gratefulness from his daughter.

* * *

If he wasn’t looking at it with his own eyes, Lucifer would never have believed it. Death’s scythe – the deadliest weapon in the universe, the same that could shred archangels into ribbons, capable of reaping almighty God himself – had not only been stopped by a lowly pregnant Nephilim, the curved metal edge was now _bent_.

After fleeing the presence of the Winchesters, the devil stood gawking at the scythe for several minutes, catching his breath in an abandoned warehouse. It was _bent_. How could the blade be bent? Looking at it from the side, you could hardly tell, but viewing it from the tip revealed the slight twist. Not only was this infuriatingly annoying, it was maddeningly _impossible_. The only beings in existence that could even attempt to manipulate the scythe were Death and God. _Yet, that bastard offspring of a seraph and a hairless ape did it without blinking an eye! How?! Did God give it some superpowered grace? Why would he give such an overpowered aura to that thing?! It wasn’t even a full angel! And it was carrying a whole new species of abomination! It should have been weak! None of them should have existed at all!_

With a shout of outrage, Lucifer’s grace blasted from its vessel, exploding through the warehouse like a scarlet bomb. Fiery debris flew in all directions and fell from the sky like a meteor shower, engulfing the surrounding town in flames. He was beyond pissed. Anger was a miniscule emotion compared to how he felt. Lucifer had been shown up by a nephilim, and God still had not come forward. But why? Why was God holding back? What was he waiting for? Had he lost interest in them, too?

Lucifer lowered the shaft of the scythe into both of his palms and twisted his fingers around it as he glared out toward the horizon in the distance. If he couldn’t kill God, those Winchesters were the next best thing. His quarrel had never been with them, but after that stupid nephilim made him look like a fool, Lucifer had to prove his power. He had to regain his edge; make everyone think twice about crossing him. Let the universe know that he wouldn’t allow himself to be stepped on anymore. He wasn’t some dog that could be thrown in a cage. He was fury incarnate. The embodiment of wrath. There was no better way to start his reign of terror than with those Winchesters.

And that bastard Nephilim would be the first one to go.

* * *

Charlie didn’t seem to mind being in an unfamiliar setting. Jessica thought that she would have to help her baby adjust to the weird smell and odd furniture of the cabin, but Charlie seemed to enjoy it. She and Dickie happily played near the fireplace for a long time; chasing each other in circles on the blanket in the floor. Jessica watched them interact from the couch, unable to bring herself to smile. At this point, she was starting to wonder if she would ever smile again…

Not long after everyone started to settle in the cabin and the sun went down, Bobby, Crowley, and Rowena arrived. They were all a little less cheery then before, for obvious reasons. Jess and her Papa came over to greet them, though Jess found it difficult to look Bobby in the eye. How could she stand to see him when she was partly responsible for the fate of his beloved dog?

Jess grabbed the duffle bags from her aunt Rowena and walked over to place them on the far table for the guests, wanting to be of some assistance. Jess planned to go back to the couch to stay out of the way after moving the luggage, but when she turned around, uncle Bobby was standing there, looking directly at her. There was much less sorrow in his gray eyes than Jess was expecting. His lips pursed together in his silver beard before speaking.

“I wanna thank you for savin’ us, Jess,” the old man said, “Don’t know if any of ‘em have said that to you yet, but I think you oughta know. None of us would be here without you.”

Jessica instantly choked up. She tried to gulp down her emotions to keep the liquid from spilling out of her eyes. She felt so happy and sad at the same time; happy that Bobby was okay, but so sad about poor Humphrey.

“I’m s – so sorry about –”

“Don’t be,” Bobby interrupted, shaking his head as he pulled Jessie close for a gentle hug, “Yer an honest-to-God angel, Jessie. You don’t have to be sorry for nothin’.”

Jessica sniffled and hugged her uncle back. Ever since Lucifer tried to steal her baby, Jess’s heart had been overwhelmed with nonstop emotion. It was nice to finally get a hug and know that she was appreciated despite her mistakes.

“I love you, uncle Bobby,” she whimpered on his shoulder.

“Love you too, darlin’,” he murmured, pulling back to wink at her, “Keep yer head up, alright?”

Jess nodded and wiped her tears away as Bobby pat her shoulder and moved away to greet the rest of the angels in the kitchen. As he and Crowley walked by, Rowena came up to take Jess’s face in both hands.

“Oh, hush now, sweet cherub. You’ve shed enough tears,” the tiny witch cooed, gently rubbing Jess’s cheeks with her thumbs, “Yer eyes are far too lovely to be bogged down with all that red, dearie. Say, where’s that wee babe of yours?”

“Over here,” Jess answered.

She led Rowena back to the fireplace, where Dickie was dashing around in a circle on the blanket and making Charlie giggle. The sound of the baby’s laughter made Rowena squeal in delight. She knelt to their level and started to play with Charlie, which gave Jess some relief. She had been watching Charlie like a hawk for the past day and a half and it was really starting to wear her out. In fact, Jess couldn’t remember the last time she spoke to her own husband…

“Rowena, can you watch her for a minute?” Jess asked as politely as possible.

“Of course, love! Take all the time you need. Sweet Charlie Jane and I need to share a bit o’ girl time anyway,” Rowena beamed.

Jess gave her a nod of appreciation before starting toward the far side of the room. None of the angels were allowed to leave the cabin, because Meg and the boys were outside getting wards put up. But Jessica figured that she could at least see Oliver from the window. Luckily, she spotted the red hair just outside against the dark. Ollie was glancing back and forth between the side of the cabin and the phone in his hand, probably trying to copy the symbols of a ward from an online source with spray paint. Jess carefully lifted the window up near him and stuck her head outside.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Oliver nearly jumped three feet off the ground and dropped everything in his hands. Clearly, he didn’t expect to hear a voice so close, and Jess had accidentally startled the daylights out of him. After seeing that it was her and regaining his composure, Oliver swiped the back of his hand against his forehead and exhaled.

“Oh… Jess… You scared the shit out of me,” he breathed.

“Sorry,” she murmured, feeling extremely close to smiling, “How’s it going?”

Oliver sighed and glanced at his phone and can of spray paint with a shrug.

“It’s going okay, I guess. Never done this before,” he admitted.

Jess gulped and glanced toward the trees near the cabin. Oliver probably never imagined that he would have to cover a home in wards to protect his family. Then again, his idea of home was far different than the bunker, too. And now that the bunker was gone…

“Ollie?”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“When this is over… I’ll take you to the house,” Jessica said quietly.

There was no point in postponing the inevitable any longer. She and Oliver were destined to have the house from her dreams. No matter how lonely she knew she might get from time to time in that house, it would be nothing compared to the utter heartbreak of watching the bunker crumble in front of her. Judging by his raised eyebrows and open mouth, Oliver was surprised.

“The house? Really?” he replied.

Jessica took a breath and nodded, feeling the cool night breeze toss her hair around in the dark. She thought that planning to go see the house would make Oliver happy. But he only looked worried.

“Are you sure? I mean, I heard Gabe and Dean talking about the bunker, and it sounded like the angels would be able to restore everything and fix it up.”

“I know,” Jess allowed, “but… It’s time for us to go.”

She didn’t know what else to say. Nothing could make their current situation any easier to deal with. Oliver seemed to be at a loss for words too, because he only nodded to show he agreed. After a second or two of silence, Jess started to lower her head to bring it back into the cabin – but stopped when she felt a warm hand rest on hers on the windowsill. She looked back in time to see Ollie lean over and press his lips to hers. Jess blinked her eyes closed to enjoy the moment – and suddenly realized that she hadn’t kissed her husband like this for _days_. With everything that was going on, she had forgotten to show him affection. But now, he was reminding _her_. He was showing her that their love could endure any hardship or tragedy. It didn’t matter if they lived in a house, a bunker, a cabin, a mansion, or were completely homeless. As long as they had each other, Jess and Ollie were already home.

“I love you with all my heart, Jessie,” Ollie breathed afterward, “Always have. Always will.”

Jess gulped again. Dammit, was everyone trying to get her to cry? Because it was working…

“I love you too, Ollie-pop,” she smiled genuinely for the first time that day.

Ollie smirked and fiddled with Jess’s fingers for a moment, his freckled face turning bashfully pink.

“When we finally move into our own place, we have to buy a kitchen table first,” he muttered.

Jessica gave him a funny look. Kitchen table? Didn’t they need to buy beds and appliances first?

“Why?” she questioned.

“You know... So we can properly christen it,” he winked.

Jessica bit her bottom lip to keep from bursting into a fit of nervous giggles. _Oh_. Ollie didn’t just want a table to sit at. He wanted to have sex with Jessica on it. Jess was partly glad that her uncles had put the idea into Ollie’s head. Now feeling the rush of butterfly wings in her belly, Jess grinned and nodded her head of long blonde hair.

“You’ve got it,” she beamed, searching the cocoa-colored eyes of her soulmate in the dim light, “Oliver, I’m really sorry about how I acted before.”

“Me too,” he replied, “I know I did a lot of complaining about the bunker, but I’m missing the hell out of it right now… On the Brightside, at least we’re all still together.”

“Yeah,” Jess agreed, “and we’ve all got –”

“Hey. Gingerbread,” Clare’s voice called from the corner of the cabin, “Quit smooching your Barbie doll and get back to work.”

From the playful tone of the demon’s voice, Jess and Ollie could both tell Clare was just being funny. They smiled and shook their heads in Clare’s direction.

“Hi, Clare,” Jess called with a wave.

“Hey,” Clare waved back, “You mind checking on my hubby for me? Make sure he hasn’t exploded yet?”

“Sure,” Jess agreed, turning her eyes back to Oliver’s handsome face, “I’ll, um, see you when you get back inside.”

“Okay,” Ollie nodded, “See you in a bit.”

The two of them shared another quick kiss – which made Clare noisily protest and, in turn, made them both laugh – before Jess ducked her head back into the cabin and shut the window again. Oliver started to spray paint the clear glass once it was shut, warding even the fragile surfaces. Jess made good on her promise and turned to go and see her pregnant cousin. Rowena, Charlie, and Dickie were still playing on the floor. Michael, Bobby, and her Papa were all sitting and talking at the kitchen table. And Cas and Jude were in the pantry off to the side. The closet-sized door was open, revealing Jude propped up on a small bed with food in each hand. He seemed to be eating from a watermelon slice and a pickle at the same time, while Cas kept him company at the end of the bed. The light from his huge stomach was almost blinding. When Jess walked up, both people turned to look at her.

“Hello, Jessica,” uncle Cas greeted, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m better,” Jess answered truthfully before looking to her cousin, “Clare asked me to make sure you haven’t exploded yet.”

Jude giggled with his mouth full and shrugged his shoulders.

“Not yet. Still working on it,” he answered, rolling as close to one side of the bed as he could, “Come in. Have a seat.”

There was so little room in the pantry that uncle Cas had to stand up to let Jess in. The older angel mentioned that he would be right back before bowing out and letting Jude and Jess have some time alone together. Jessica was mesmerized by Jude’s belly. Even when she was carrying Charlie, Jess’s belly wasn’t that large or bright. There was no denying that Jude was pregnant with twins…

“So,” Jessica exhaled, “Got any names picked out yet?”

Jude quickly chewed his food and gulped it down before answering.

“Clare named the boy Gibson, after his guitar.”

“Aww. That’s sweet,” Jess smiled, “What’s his middle name?”

Jude’s face scrunched a little.

“Clare suggested ‘Fergus’, after Crowley. But I don’t want to ruin our child’s life like that,” he muttered.

Jessica laughed hardily, reaching out to place a hand on Jude’s warm, large belly.

“I wouldn’t either,” she agreed, “What about the girl? Does she have one?”

“Hmm… I’ve been trying to think of names that go with Gibson, because they’re twins,” Jude explained.

“How about Gabby? Or Gabriella, like Papa’s drag queen name?” Jess offered.

Jude made another face as he put the watermelon down and reached up to hold his belly with Jess.

“I don’t know. None of them feel right yet,” he said.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jess nodded, remembering how long it took to figure out Charlie’s, “Don’t worry. It’ll come to you.”

Jude nodded and joined Jess in looking down at his pregnant belly between them. The light was so bright that it was difficult to make direct eye contact with it. But the thought of two equally tiny babies curled up together just under their hands made Jess smile. She couldn’t wait to meet her new niece and nephew. Between Jude and Clare’s handsome looks, they were going to be the most beautiful babies in the world – after her own, that is.

Jess raised her head to say that joke out loud but found an odd look on Jude’s face. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead, he looked puzzled. His eyebrows were knitted, and he was blinking at his belly with concern.

“What is it?” Jess blurted.

“The raindrops,” Jude said quietly, “They’re getting… slower.”

“Raindrops?” Jess repeated, unsure of what he meant.

“Heartbeats,” he muttered, “They’re slowing down. What does that mean?”

Jessica opened her mouth and turned toward the door to call for someone older to give them advice – but found uncle Cas already standing in the pantry doorway. Raw professionalism was draped across the angel’s expression as he shoved himself into the tiny room.

“It means we need to prepare for delivery,” Cas answered, “Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! The babies are coming! XD You might be thinking, _“Wait, it’s reeeally early for Jude to go into labor, Snailhair, even for this story.”_ And you would be right about that. But there are many factors that have made Jude’s pregnancy super short, one being his stupidly overpowered grace and another being that twins usually come early anyway. I know, it’s a stretch. But I have a plan! ;D It’s weird being back at the cabin, isn’t it? I don’t know if Rufus’s cabin has a pantry in the kitchen, but as a hot rebellious angel once said, “We’re making it up as we go.” ;D Have you guys seen Thor: Ragnarok? (If not, spoiler alert) Lucifer’s moment with the scythe in this chapter reminded me of when Hela destroyed Thor’s hammer. ( _“Darling, you have no idea what’s possible.”_ ) ;D I think it’s safe to say that Jess and Ollie are back on good terms. They are patient with one another, and that’s important in a marriage. Or any relationship, really. :) And now, we get to look forward to meeting two brand new babies! :D Guys, thank you so much for reading and commenting. I hope that every single one of you is healthy, well fed, and staying relatively sane while trapped at home. I really do pray for you guys every night. :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a spectrum of feels, some not so good. Plus, it ends with a cliffhanger, so be warned! :) Thank you and enjoy!

Upon hearing the word ‘delivery,’ Jude felt his own heart jolt into a frenzy. They had to deliver the babies _now_? But Jude wasn’t ready! The family had just settled into the cabin! Wards were still being put up! Jude was still eating watermelon for crying out loud! He couldn’t just give birth out of the blue!

Jessica stood up from the bed, looking five shades paler than before as she spun between Jude and his Papa. Pop was already sliding out of his trench coat and rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt, looking like a doctor preparing for emergency surgery.

“Jessica, please retrieve some towels from the bathroom closet, as well as a pot of warm water,” Papa said quickly, after which Jessica disappeared and he took a step outside the pantry to call into the kitchen, “Gabriel, Michael, Jude is ready to deliver. I may require some assistance.”

“No, I’m not ready!” Jude denied.

His voice came out as a high-pitched squeal while he scurried toward the top of the mattress he was sitting on. The babies couldn’t come yet! Clare wasn’t there! Jude wasn’t prepared to feel that angel blade! Apparently, seeing Jude acting like a frightened animal was worrying to Papa. He turned to give Jude a pair of hopeful and cautious eyes, raising both hands in a soothing manner.

“Everything will be alright, son. Please do not get upset. Remember, until they are born, your children can feel every emotion you do,” Pop said calmly, “Try to relax and steady your heartbeat for them.”

Jude gulped down the taste of watermelon and cradled his own warm stomach. Even though he felt like exploding with panic, Jude forced himself to take slower breaths. The last thing he wanted was to put his children in harms way. If staying calm would help keep them calm, he would do whatever it took.

Gabriel and Michael appeared in the doorway and both attempted to cram their way into the tiny pantry with Jude and Papa. Without a word, Michael sat himself on the edge of the bed and grabbed Jude’s belly with both hands. The sensation of his uncle’s unfamiliar grace meeting his once again made Jude upset. Did Michael not know how to ask for permission or something?! Jude was about to tell the archangel that it was rude to just touch someone whenever he wanted, but the look on Michael’s face stopped him. Michael’s slightly glowing eyes were full of concern and his lips were briefly pursed.

“Yes. They need to be extracted,” he agreed, his voice lowering before he added, “… The umbilical cords are long and jumbled together. It’s difficult to feel the difference between them, but their heartrates seem to be declining in unison. Castiel,” Michael turned to look at Papa as he gestured a line across a specific part of Jude’s giant stomach, “Make your incision here.”

Papa nodded and shifted around to get onto the end of the bed. Jude bunched himself up near the top of the bed and even tried to bring his legs up away from the crowd gathering in front of him.

“No!” Jude snapped, feeling on the verge of tears, “I want to see Clarence first!”

“Son, this is not a matter for debate. The longer we postpone, the more your children’s lives are in danger,” Papa stated firmly.

“I’ll get him,” Gabe blurted from the back.

Jude briefly saw uncle Gabe disappear from the crowd before reappearing next to the bed with Clare’s arm in his grasp. Clare was holding a can of spray paint and an open book, and blinked repeatedly in shock when he arrived in the room. Jude gasped and lurched toward the demon instantly. Seeing Clare in that moment was like seeing a lighthouse beacon in the middle of a dark storm. Clare dropped the things in his hands and latched onto Jude from above, though he looked around in wonder.

“Wh – what the hell’s going on?” Clare asked.

“We are preparing for the delivery of your children,” Pop answered, sounding exasperated, “But you cannot be here. In fact, most of you should vacate…”

The rest of Papa’s sentence trailed off as a new sound took its place. It came from outside and was reminiscent of thunder. Jude gripped handfuls of Clare’s clothing as he raised his head to glance around at all the faces in the pantry with him. It wasn’t just ordinary thunder. The electrical charge that permeated the atmosphere was injected with celestial aura. It shook the whole cabin, making the windows rattle and the old boards quake. It was only one long, continuous boom of thunder. But once it dissipated, every angel in the pantry was wearing a look of anger mixed with determination. And the answer that Jude already felt in his heart was made vocal by Michael’s voice.

“Lucifer is here,” the archangel stated boldly.

Even though he knew it was true, Jude still shivered at the confirmation. Just outside the cabin that Jude was on the verge of giving birth in was the same angel responsible for the destruction of the bunker…

“H – here?” Clare breathed, gulping as he shook his head, “Well, he can’t get in. The wards are finished.”

“Where is Dean? Is he still outside?” Papa asked anxiously.

The question was answered with a firm slam of a door that echoed through the cabin. Though Jude couldn’t see where it came from, he imagined that it was the backdoor through the kitchen. Pop and Gabriel leaned out of the pantry and Jude could hear his father’s voice calling from a distance.

“Look alive. We’ve got company,” Dad said, sounding out of breath as he got closer to the pantry, “Luci’s here, and he’s pissed. We need to do a head count. Where’s Clare?”

“I kidnapped him. He’s in here. Where’s Jessica?” Gabe replied.

“I’m right here,” Jessie’s voice came from just outside the pantry, “Cas told me to get water and stuff.”

“Oliver?” Sam’s voice asked.

“He’s good. He came in with us –”

Another more forceful rumble of thunder interrupted the frantic conversation, momentarily shutting everyone up by shaking the cabin. Jude’s arms tightened around Clare’s hips as he closed his eyes. It was bad enough that Jude would have to give birth within the next few minutes, but to be under attack the whole time? Knowing that Lucifer was waiting just outside? It was almost enough to make Jude want to keep his babies inside his body. He didn’t want his children to come into the world like this…

“He’s attempting to break through the barrier,” Papa assumed out loud.

“Egotistical bag of dicks,” Gabe spat.

“What can we do? Can we just ignore it? Will the wards hold?” uncle Sam’s voice came from the kitchen.

Michael suddenly raised up from the bed, and Jude realized that the archangel’s expression had changed. He wasn’t worried, or upset, or even mad. Michael’s face was blank; like a soldier prepared for duty. His gray eyes were straight forward, and his voice was soberly calm when he spoke.

“No. The wards will not hold him back for long,” he answered, staring at the wall the whole time, “But I can deter him. It’s about time that we faced each other anyway.”

“I’m coming too,” uncle Gabe volunteered.

“No, Gabe –”

“I have to, Sammy. He’s my idiot brother. Besides, he owes me an explanation,” Gabe interrupted.

After a pause, Jude heard Sam sigh from the kitchen.

“Then I’ll go too,” Sam said.

“Sam, don’t be stupid,” Dad barked, “Lucifer’s got the scythe! He could kill you with one swipe.”

“Actually, it would be wise to face Lucifer in a large group,” Michael argued, turning to gently push his way through the tightly packed crowd and stand just outside the pantry door, “If half of us go out to meet him, it may give Jude ample time to deliver his twins.”

“What about after they come out?” Clare asked, voice shaky.

Everyone was quiet for a moment as they stood around and felt the cabin shake again. Michael’s face was more serious than Jude had ever seen it. He looked almost hollow; like he had pushed every emotion out of his body and was running completely on autopilot.

“… I will take care of it,” the archangel decreed.

Then, Michael moved swiftly away from the pantry. Jude couldn’t see what happened next. He assumed that Michael walked into the kitchen to see his daughter, or even left entirely. Gabriel briefly placed his hand on Papa’s shoulder and gave him a look that seemed to say ‘good luck,’ before giving Jude a wink.

“You can do this, sidekick. Jessie-rabbit will be here to help you,” he promised.

Jude gulped and nodded once to show he heard the statement, but he was internally frightened. Why did that sound like a goodbye? True to his word, when uncle Gabe disappeared from the pantry, Jessie took his place. She came in holding an armful of towels and a pot of steaming water, just like Papa asked her to get. While everyone moved in and out of the pantry, Jude felt a sudden jerk in his stomach and gasped in shock. It felt like one of the twins tried to stand up straight in his grace. It was so fast and hard that he almost thought they had burst out on their own. There was no denying it, now. It was definitely time for them to come out.

“Ahh,” Jude groaned, holding a hand to his stomach in pain. 

“Clarence, step outside. We must begin,” Papa instructed.

Clare hesitated, pausing to look down at Jude with concern. The demon bent over to give the angel a speedy kiss and tight hug before carefully pulling away.

“I’ll be right outside this door, Jay,” Clare promised, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.”

Jude gulped and nodded as he watched his husband walk out and gently close the door. It was nice to know that even though they couldn’t see each other, Clare was still right there with him; just on the other side of a thin slab of wood. Now alone in the pantry with Jude, Papa and Jessica got into position. Papa knelt on the end of the mattress and began laying towels under Jude’s legs and at his sides. Jessie dipped a few hand towels in the hot water and placed them within reaching distance of Papa on the bed, though she mostly seemed unsure of where to stand. Before Jude could ask what he needed to do, he saw the shimmer of an angel blade as Papa lifted it from the heap of his coat on the floor. Though the sight terrified him, Jude was comforted by the look of reassurance in Papa’s eyes.

“It’s alright, Jude. Take a deep breath.”

* * *

It was easy enough to find those damn hunters. All Lucifer had to do was look for the highest concentration of celestial energy hovering in a single spot. It happened to be a few thousand miles northwest of the bunker crater. When Lucifer arrived there, he was greeted by a heavily warded cabin. The sigils were sloppily scribbled around the sides and roof of the building; clearly slapped on in a rush, so there were probably some inconsistencies that Lucifer could chip away at if he bashed it hard enough. And since he was low on patience...

With all the might of his scarlet grace, Lucifer struck the top of the building. Surprisingly, the wards held up well. The Winchesters must have done their damn homework. The celestial blow bounced away from the cabin and up into the atmosphere, causing thunder to crackle through the air. Yet, that was all that happened. Lucifer glared at the cabin for a few seconds, knowing full well that those Winchester insects were scurrying around, trying to cower from him. Were they scared? Because they needed to be.

After accumulating his grace again, Lucifer delivered another hard blow to the same spot. This one caused the flimsy cabin to quiver on the ground, but the wards remained. Again, thunder rumbled from the sky, and eventually made rain start falling. Lucifer ignored the minor inconvenience. He didn’t have time to worry about being in a wet vessel when there was hell to be paid. He figured that one more giant crack would be enough to break through the protective invisible wall, so he gripped the scythe tight and began to build up his power.

But with his glowing eyes, Lucifer saw the cabin door open – and people started walking outside. The ward was temporarily broken, but it didn’t quite occur to Lucifer that he could get into the cabin because, frankly, he was surprised to see some of his targets coming to face him. Michael was at the forefront, with Gabriel behind him. Then Lucifer’s vessel, Sam, followed. Then Adam, the youngest of the Winchester brothers, whom Lucifer had spent far too much time in the cage with. And then, to top it all off, Crowley brought up the rear. Five of them, each holding an angel blade and Michael his sword, walked out and shut the door, sealing the cabin in protective magic behind them. Lucifer thought it was pretty stupid for them to come outside, especially Michael and Gabriel. Those angels couldn’t get into the cabin either. Then again, they probably weren’t going to be around long enough to regret the decision. Maybe these few were sacrificing themselves to save the rest. It was the Winchester philosophy, after all.

Lucifer raised the scythe to grip it with both hands as he watched the five beings step out and create a loose semicircle to face him. The devil groaned and rolled his red eyes. Did they really think they could stand up to him? Would he really have to kill them all just to make a point?

“Stand down, Lucifer,” Michael barked, holding his ridiculous sword downward, “Please. Before this gets out of hand.”

“Oh. It’s already out of hand, Mikey,” Lucifer spat, glancing around, “I’ll kill all of you if I have to.”

“You can try, asshole. But I’m pretty sure we’ll kill you first.”

Lucifer almost couldn’t believe it. That disrespectful, malice-filled voice belonged to _Gabriel_ ; Lucifer’s most beloved brother. The sheer magnitude of rage on Gabriel’s face sunk deep into Lucifer’s being. Gabe had never threatened his life like that. They used to be so close… but now, even Lucifer’s favorite sibling had chosen the wrong side.

“Et tu, Gabriel?” Lucifer breathed. 

Gabriel gripping the blade in his hand and narrowed his eyes, glaring toward Lucifer as if he was sin incarnate.

“You destroyed my home, harmed my favorite dogs, threatened the lives of my children… Of course I’m against you. You were against me first,” the golden archangel stated.

The sound of his last potential ally turning against him caused Lucifer to feel a wide stir of emotions. First was a wave of disbelief, followed by betrayal. But then, a fog of numbness covered him. And all he could think about was the scythe in his hand. The heavy handle was cold in his grip, grounding him and reminding him that he wasn’t here to make friends. He was here for vengeance, in whatever shape it came in.

“Very well,” The devil growled, lifting his glowing eyes to the petty obstacles in his way, “ _Then you’ll die like the rest._ ”

With a righteous growl, Lucifer lunged forward with the scythe, raising the heavy weapon and swiping it toward Gabriel. Instead of connecting with Gabe’s vessel, the scythe clanged loudly against something solid. Michael had flown across the lawn and blocked the blow with his huge sword, and he was now glaring with his full grace toward Lucifer. The two of them stood in a powerful stance for a moment, each pressing their weapons harder toward one another as they grit their teeth. It seemed that both the scythe and Michael’s sword were more equal than they thought.

* * *

Even though he was in the care of two people he trusted and loved very much, Jude was still terrified. Papa was between his knees and Jessie was standing next to the bed, both wearing faces of pure concentration. The angel blade was in Papa’s hand, but Papa’s blue eyes were on Jude’s face.

“Do not tense up, Jude. Relax your muscles,” Papa instructed.

“I’m scared!” Jude almost shouted.

“Hold my hand,” Jessie offered, taking Jude’s trembling fingers, “It’s okay, Jude. Listen, the faster we do this, the faster you get to meet your babies.”

The thought was actually kind of reassuring. Jude had been wanting to hold his own child for a long time, and now it was finally here. The pregnant angel took a few deep breaths as he clung to Jessie’s hand and forced himself to relax.

“I’m going to make the incision,” Papa announced.

Jude closed his eyes and tried to brace himself. He had never been cut with an angel blade before, so he had no idea what it was going to feel like – but he soon found out. It was like having a piercing, white-hot iron being plunged into his very own soul. Jude screamed and clung to the bed and Jess’s hand, unable to think of anything but the pain of the metal against his tight stomach. His eyes filled with moisture from the acute pain, but he was still able to see the white light burst into the room. It was his own grace, powerful and painful, filling the room like a supernova. Papa and Jess both briefly turned away from it, seeming unable to look directly at it. Eventually, it dimmed a little and Papa was able to work.

While Jude tried to hold down screams, he could feel Papa’s hands moving in his stomach and grace. If Jude’s grace was burning him, Papa didn’t show it. He only bit his bottom lip and worked feverishly.

“I feel one of the infants, but I cannot get a good grip,” he panted, “Son, try to bear down.”

“Wh – what?” Jude asked, voice hoarse from screaming.

“He means push,” Jess explained.

Though he was confused and shaking with pain, Jude clenched all the muscles in his upper body and tried to push. He wasn’t really sure how to do it or if he was even doing it correctly, but Papa seemed to approve. He nodded and Jude could feel fingers maneuvering inside his stomach. A stinging pain began to spread through Jude’s lower half and he shouted again, unable to hold it back anymore. The ear-shattering sound bounced off the pantry walls as the light of his grace brightened. Luckily, the pain only lasted a minute and was gone quickly.

Then, he heard the first cry. It was a frantic wail that melted into his own, but continued long after he stopped. Though his sight was blurry, Jude blinked toward the source and found a tiny pink bundle in Papa’s arms. Before Jude could get a good look at the baby from a distance, Papa smiled and leaned forward to place the wet, screaming infant on Jude’s bare chest. The sensation of a moist, breathing, moving child resting on top of his hammering heart took Jude’s breath away.

“It’s your son, Jude,” Papa said, smiling briefly, “Say hello to your son.”

Jude burst into a strange mixture of laughter and tears as he raised his own shaking arms up to hold his tiny crying baby. It was Gibson! He was there, in Jude’s arms! Jude kissed the baby’s wet head, feeling hot tears run down his own face.

“H – hi… little man…” Jude breathed.

As the baby squalled and flailed his tiny limbs, Jude caught sight of Papa using the angel blade to sever the umbilical cord and clamp it off with something small. He then carefully started to take the baby out of Jude’s arms again.

“I will give him to Clarence so that we can deliver the girl,” Papa explained.

Jude nodded his sweaty head against the pillow, but still clung to Gibson’s small body until it was out of reach.

* * *

Clare had never been so worried in his whole life. Even when Jude was possessed by Darkness, Clare had faith that Jude would make it through. Now, it wasn’t just Jude’s life on the line. It was Jude, their two children, and their entire family. Because the devil was outside as his children were being born.

The anxious demon paced directly outside of the pantry door, listening for everything happening inside. He often flitted his eyes up to glance through the living room window in the distance, making sure that half of the family that had gone outside was still alive. At the kitchen table, Oliver sat with Charlie in his arms and Rowena rocked baby Katherine. Both kids were asleep – which was amazing, considering everything that was going on. Bobby and Meg were sitting at the table too, both watching the commotion outside. But Dean was standing with Clarence. The guy wasn’t pacing, but he seemed just as concerned.

“It’s gonna be alright, kid. Cas has delivered plenty of babies,” Dean mentioned.

Clare nodded, but didn’t stop walking around. He couldn’t. Yeah, Cas knew what he was doing and everything was probably going to be fine, but that didn’t make Clare’s anxiety go away. He wanted to be in there with Jude; holding him, coaching him, being supportive. Not waltzing around the kitchen like an idiot.

Jude’s scream came from the pantry and a bright light flashed all around the edges of the door, making Clarence and Dean both jump. Oh God! Jude was in _pain_! Clare’s precious blue Jay was hurting _and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it!_

“I have to go in there,” Clare breathed.

“No,” Dean said, dashing over to block the pantry door, “I get it, Clare. You want to help him. That’s my son in there. I’m scared for him too. But that grace will vaporize you into ash.”

“ _Dammit! This sucks!_ ” Clare shouted, turning around to kick at a nearby end table, “What the hell am I supposed to do?!”

“Relax, boy,” Bobby said calmly, crossing his arms as he stood up from the table, “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

“Cas would never hurt Jude on purpose. It’s just the birth, you know? It’s supposed to be painful,” Mom mentioned.

Rowena scoffed quietly from the table and rolled her eyes, discretely insulting Meg without openly admitting it. As she did, Jude screamed again and it broke Clare’s heart. The demon had to physically turn away and close his eyes to keep from storming into the pantry. Even the thought of Jude being in pain was enough to piss Clare off, but having to listen to the poor guy scream? It was like something from Clare’s nightmares!

“How long is this going to last?” Clare asked through gritted teeth.

“Shouldn’t be long,” Dean answered.

“What about those boys out there? You think I oughta go help ‘em?” Bobby asked.

“Sit down and rest yer feet, Robert, dear. Fergus has it taken care of,” Rowena hummed as she rocked back and forth with Katherine.

“I ain’t so sure,” Bobby disagreed.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve got faith in Michael,” Dean mumbled, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced toward the window, “Dude swore he’d protect us, and I think he will.”

Another scream came from the pantry, cutting through Clarence’s heart like a hot knife through butter. He considered covering his ears; trying to save himself the anguish of listening to his husband’s voice cracking hoarsely.

“I can’t do this,” Clare huffed, shaking his head as he nervously ran a hand through his hair, “I can’t –”

A figure suddenly appeared in Clare’s path, making him flinch and gasp. It was Castiel, and the front of his clothes were covered in blood and gunk. But a little pink thing was moving around in his arms. The angel gently thrust the wet form against Clare’s chest.

“Clarence, take your son,” the angel calmly instructed.

And then Cas was gone again, leaving the crying, gasping, wiggling wet baby in Clare’s arms. All of the color drained from Clare’s face and the oxygen fled his body as he looked down at the infant he was holding. Holy shit, _it was his baby_! The baby was there, fresh out of Jude’s womb, still covered in blood, screaming loud enough to fill the whole kitchen. Though his own arms felt numb, Clare curled them tighter around the naked little boy and tried to calm him down.

But a mixture of excitement, awe, and absolute terror burst through the demon’s body and he looked up for any kind of help. He found Dean, Meg, and Bobby all standing there smiling at him. But Clare couldn’t smile yet. He was too shocked!

“M – my son,” Clare breathed, his voice so faint that he could barely hear it over the baby’s cries, “It’s my… my son…”

Bobby chuckled, his gray eyes moist with tears as he reached up to pat Clare’s shoulder.

“Congratulations, boy. Yer a father, now,” he said.

As he looked down at the wet, warm baby in the crook of his arm, Clare felt stronger than he ever had before. His son was there, nestled comfortably in his arms, in the safest place possible. Nothing was ever going to hurt him as long as Clare was around. Nothing would ever hurt his daughter, either. And he would sweetly tell her that as soon as he got to hold her, too.

* * *

There was more fight in Michael now than there had ever been before. Not even during their first battle, or even the one before being tossed into the cage, did Michael ever swing so viciously at Lucifer with a weapon. His newfound, parasitic ‘family’ must have been behind his drive to fight Lucifer, which was pitiful. It was a shame that Lucifer was going to have to kill his own brothers over something as stupid as a band of hunters.

After one large, exacting swing, the blade of Michael’s sword wedged into the wooden handle of the scythe, lodging the weapons together and allowing them a few seconds to look each other in the eye.

“Look how far you’ve fallen, Michael. You’ve gone from Heaven’s most elite commanding officer to nothing more than a prostitute for apes,” Lucifer snapped.

With a grunt, Michael dislodged his sword and swung it fast, striking the same small nick on the scythe’s handle. Lucifer had to hold it up to defend himself from the blow and backed off to gain some room to move. Unfortunately, it was in the same direction as Gabriel and Crowley, and they both lunged toward him with the ends of their angel blades. Lucifer barely dodged out of the way in time, still stunned that Gabriel was actively fighting against him.

“And you, Gabriel. It was bad enough that you defiled my vessel and allowed it to fill you with its seed. Now you outright attack me?” Lucifer shouted.

“You attacked us first, dipshit. I’m just defending my family,” Gabe replied.

“I _am_ your family!” Lucifer challenged.

“Not with that scythe in your hands, you’re not,” Gabriel disagreed.

In defiance, Lucifer gripped the scythe with one hand and swung the curved blade around his head, aiming toward the spot where Gabriel and his true vessel were standing. But the attack was deflected by a puff of black smoke that appeared out of nowhere. In his lack of vision, Lucifer missed and the scythe blade ended up in the bark of a tree. The devil growled and used the light of his grace to remove the demonic smoke, and found the so-called king of hell standing pompously near the cabin porch with a smug grin on his vile face.

“What’s the matter? Surprised that your own creations would fight against you? Perhaps now you know how your father feels,” the demon purred.

Another rageful grunt escaped Lucifer’s throat as he flew toward the insubordinate bastard. How dare he speak about Lucifer and his father like that! No one had any idea how he was feeling! Once again, the devil was stopped my Michael’s sword. The older archangel jumped over Crowley to defend him with a giant swing, which Lucifer was able to deflect with the scythe handle. Unfortunately, the blade sunk deep into the same nick as before, making an even larger slice in the wood. Michael seemed to notice this too, because he quickly bashed his sword in the same spot over and over. Lucifer gasped and lowered the scythe away, flying backward to get away from Michael’s reach.

The devil didn’t have time to regain any momentum, because he had accidently jumped between Sam and Adam. Both of them jutted forward with angel blade strikes from each direction, making Lucifer contort oddly to miss the deadly blades. In an effort to avoid the weapons, Lucifer fell backwards onto the ground, where he looked up to see Michael jumping toward him with his sword raised high in the air. It was probably meant to be the killing blow, but Lucifer saw a chance to save himself.

Instead of holding up the scythe to defend himself, Lucifer grabbed Adam and held him up as a human shield. The sight of his beloved little human in the path of his own blade was enough to stop Michael’s attack. A horrified expression came over his face and curled his sword strike outward, narrowly missing both Adam and Lucifer. With Michael now standing down, Lucifer raised up to kneel and hold Adam’s head with both hands. He panted and blinked toward Michael, enjoying the sight of absolute terror on his brother’s face.

“See?” Lucifer panted, grinning as he held Adam’s fragile head in a tight hold, “It’s so easy make someone compliant… All you have to do is take away the thing they love…”

The terror and anger grew on Michael’s face as his eyes flickered between Adam’s face and Lucifer’s. As they all stared at each other, another voice came from across the lawn.

“You know what, Luci?”

Lucifer looked toward the sound of Gabriel’s voice – and found the archangel holding Death’s scythe. Lucifer had dropped it in the fray, and it was now in Gabriel’s hands. Pure, holy, golden grace began to shine from Gabriel’s vessel as he raised the scythe over his head and glared toward the devil.

“For once, you’re actually right,” Gabriel finished.

“ _NO!_ ”

Despite his fervent shout and discarding Adam to fly over to stop Gabriel, Lucifer didn’t make it in time. With every last ounce of his grace, Gabriel brought the scythe down and broke it over his own knee; shattering the handle in the same spot that Michael had sliced. When the most powerful weapon in the universe shattered, its raw power exploded, sending every person in the vicinity flying backwards. Lucifer was flung toward the tree tops of the nearby woods and his glowing vessel took out multiple branches. He fell through the pine needles to the forest floor, where he groaned before climbing back to his feet and returning to the scene in front of the cabin.

Death’s scythe was cleaved into two pieces that looked beyond repair. The wood and metal looked like blackened ash as it lay crooked on the dark soil. The blade was useless now, and the handle even less so. Lucifer huffed a breath of rage and despair as he looked up toward Gabriel. The youngest archangel appeared to be knocked out or dead. He was laying on his back in the distance, where Sam Winchester ran over calling his name. With nothing else left to do, Lucifer sat there by his broken weapon and watched Sam frantically scoop Gabriel’s limp vessel into his arms and pet his blonde hair. He was trying his hardest to wake Gabriel up. Lucifer wished he could feel something, but he couldn’t. All he felt was numbness. The only chance he had of getting revenge was gone…

From the opposite tree line, Michael shuffled out with Adam at his side. The archangel, still holding his sword, looked around at all the destruction and Gabriel’s unconscious body before bringing his glaring eyes to Lucifer.

“Are you happy, now?” Michael spat, “Look at what you’ve done.”

Lucifer felt a spark of anger return to his gut as he left the broken scythe on the ground and raised to his feet to face Michael with a scowl of his own.

“I have _never_ been happy,” the devil answered.

“Oh, come on, Lucifer. We both know that isn’t true.”

The sound of God’s voice made the hairs on the back of Lucifer’s neck stand up. The spark of anger in his gut exploded into a raging inferno as he slowly turned around to see the figure standing behind him. After all the begging, pleading, crying, shouting, and destruction Lucifer caused to get God’s attention, the bastard only showed up _after_ the scythe was destroyed. How impeccably predictable. How _infuriatingly cliché and selfish_ of him to show up now, after everything… God, in his puny human vessel, wore a delicate smile as he stared at Lucifer.

“The day I made you, you were the happiest angel in heaven,” God reminded.

“ _Bastard_ ,” the devil breathed.

“You were my favorite, and you knew it –”

“ _How dare you show up now_ –”

“You loved your brothers and sisters so much –”

“– and try to lecture _me about happiness_! I should strangle you –”

“But you were never a good listener –”

“– until your eyes roll back _and I feel your life leave this universe_!”

“You only wanted to listen to the sound of your own voice –”

“ _I hate you! I hate you_!”

“Even now, when I am trying to offer you a chance to speak –”

“ _I wish I could build a cage around you and make you rot in hell for eternity!_ ”

“You speak over me, and do not hear me when I say that I still love and care deeply for you.”

“ _You’re a lying, deceiving, selfish prick, who only shows up after the threat to your own life has been eliminated! Screw you and your precious humanity! You can take this worthless creation and shove it up your ass!_ ”

The forceful end of Lucifer’s celestial shout echoed through the air as he stood glaring inches away from God’s face. They were both silent now, only staring at each other through an invisible curtain. God was on his side and Lucifer was on his own. That was how it had always been and would always be. Lucifer would _never_ cross that line! He would _never_ bow down to that pompous asshole! Despite all of Lucifer’s insults, God remained calm. And that only pissed Lucifer off even more.

“I did everything I could to get your attention, and now you show up at the last second?! Only _after_ the scythe is destroyed?! _You coward!_ ” Lucifer spat.

“Petty acts of selfish rage do not gain my attention. I only respond to acts of love and sacrifice,” God replied, gesturing toward Sam holding Gabriel’s limp body, “Those are the only things that deserve my respect.”

Lucifer’s jaw locked into place as he grimaced. He should have known that God would pull some lovey-dovey bullshit like that. God’s sight returned to Lucifer and his smile shifted into a look of concern.

“Son –”

“ _I’m not your son_.”

“This is your final chance. There will be no more like it. Please, come home with me. Dwell in Heaven in peace with your family.”

Lucifer actually laughed out loud, briefly tossing his head back to chuckle.

“I have _no home_ ,” he denied severely, “I have _no family_.”

“You will never get an offer like this again,” God warned.

Lucifer stepped close to look God in the eye, their faces only inches apart.

“ _Take your offer and shove it_ ,” Lucifer hissed, “ _I would rather die than go to Heaven with you._ ”

A flicker of pain crossed God’s face, but Lucifer assumed it was fake. It had to be. God didn’t really care about him. No one did. And with the scythe gone, he didn’t have enough capacity to even care for himself. Heaven, Earth, Purgatory, Hell – Lucifer didn’t belong in any of them. And he was done wasting time… After spinning away from God, Lucifer faced Michael and began to stomp toward him.

“Kill me,” the devil demanded.

Michael only blinked at him several times in confusion, loosely clinging to the sword in his hand.

“Wh – what?” Michael breathed.

“I said _kill me_ ,” Lucifer barked.

Michael shook his head and took a step back, withdrawing his sword so that Lucifer couldn’t reach it. After rolling his eyes, Lucifer flew over to grab Adam by the neck and hold him high in the air. The devil knew that going after Michael’s little toy would force the archangel’s hand, and he was right. No sooner than Lucifer picked Adam up, he felt the sharp plunge of Michael’s sword pierce his vessel and grace. The sensation caused the devil to gasp and drop the boy, who scurried out of the way as Lucifer looked at the bloody end of the blade sticking out of him. He could feel his own grace swelling up, preparing to explode from the power of Michael’s sword. The end wouldn’t be long now.

After the sword left his back, Lucifer stumbled forward toward the ground, but was caught by a soft pair of hands. Michael and broken his fall, and rolled him over to hold him in his arms. Though his vision was starting to blur, Lucifer saw liquid glistening in Michael’s eyes as he looked down at him.

“Wh – why did you make me do that?!” Michael breathed, “Brother… No…”

The last words Lucifer could say were ‘Thank you’ in Enochian. And once the gratitude fled his mouth, he exhaled his last breath and finally allowed his grace to explode. It felt like flying through a collapsing star; like watching a galaxy come into being. Except, Lucifer was at the center, feeling every last molecule combust into painfully fragmented atoms.

Darkness and silence were all around him.

But he wasn’t alone.

* * *

Papa returned to the pantry as fast as he left it. Jude could barely see what was going on because his eyes were full of tears and his face was glistening with sweat. Plus, he was starting to feel really lightheaded from the pain. He held on to Jess’s hand to stay focused as Papa climbed back onto the mattress with him.

“Alright, Son. We will do this just as before. Are you ready to bear down?” he asked.

Though he was having trouble concentrating, Jude forced a nod against the sweaty pillow. More than anything, he wanted to hold his daughter just like he held his son. He wanted the twins to be together again, only outside of the womb. Papa held his hands toward Jude’s bright, open stomach like a football player ready to catch a hike. After taking a huge gulp of air, Jude pushed again with all his strength, which made his hand tremble inside Jessie’s. Sharp, terrible pain was quick to return as Jude felt Papa’s fingers moving around inside his grace. Jude cried out again as he pushed, feeling his vocal cords ache from the strain.

“I’ve got her,” Papa said.

Jude took the comment as a reason to relax. He fell back against the mattress and panted, trying so hard to cling to consciousness. The light of his grace dimmed dramatically, so he figured that the baby had finally come out of his womb… but he didn’t hear a cry.

“What? What is it?” Jessica asked.

Jude raised his head to see what was going on and found Papa holding the baby. She was in the crook of his arm and he was rubbing her chest, but she wasn’t moving or crying. In fact, Jude couldn’t see if she was even breathing.

“The cord was around her neck. I cannot feel her pulse,” Papa exhaled, frantically pressing her tiny chest, “She’s not breathing.”

“Well, use your grace! Wake her up!” Jess squeaked.

Jude panted and quivered on the mattress as he watched Papa repeatedly attempt to get the baby to breathe. He did chest compressions, used his grace, gave her mouth-to-mouth, but nothing was working. And Jude was starting to freak out.

“Is she – ? She – ?” Jude couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

Jessica let go of Jude’s hand so that she could take the baby into her own arms. Her golden grace lit up the pantry as she held the newborn close to her chest. Jude silently prayed that it would work. Jessica was practically the savior of the family. If anyone could help Jude’s baby breathe, it was her. But tears grew in Jessie’s eyes as she blinked down at the baby.

“It’s not working,” she gasped, sounding on the verge of sobbing, “It’s not working!”

Jude forced himself to sit up against the pillow and held out both arms.

“Give her to me,” he demanded.

Although it looked like Jessie wanted to keep trying, she did what Jude said and carefully handed the baby to him. Jude’s daughter felt extremely small against his chest. She was wet and limp, but looked heartbreakingly beautiful. Jude kissed her moist forehead before holding her close to his own mouth. He was going to try something that he had only heard about once before. It was something out of an old lore book, but there was no better time to put it into practice than now.

Jude internally gathered up all his remaining grace and opened his mouth to push it out. He had to force it to leave because it acted like it wanted to stay. But the vibrant white light snaked out of his mouth and instantly drifted to his daughter, like a magnet finding a positive charge. As soon as the grace touched her, Jude could feel it being pull completely out of his body like fishing line being unraveled. And it felt strangely good. It was like half of his grace already belonged to her. Like he had been carrying around the extra light all his life just to give to his daughter…

The light eventually disappeared completely from Jude’s mouth, leaving the pantry darkened again as he blinked down at the wet newborn in his arms. She remained still for several seconds… but then, her chest expanded, her legs kicked, and she let out the tiniest whimper Jude had ever heard. The feeling and sound of his daughter being alive caused Jude to exhale and fall back against the pillow with a sigh. Her cry slowly got louder and more prominent as they laid together on the mattress.

“She’s breathing! She’s crying!” Jessica rejoiced.

Jude smiled and closed his eyes as he felt the baby being lifted from his bare chest. He assumed that Jessica or his Papa had picked her up and was holding her. Jude knew that whoever picked her up was standing beside him near the bed, because he could hear her tiny cries coming from that direction. Jude smirked a little as he laid there and listened to the beautiful sound. Though he felt weak, Jude carefully reached up to touch whoever was holding the baby.

“Grace,” he breathed, feeling beyond content, “… Her name is Grace.”

Jude let his hand drop and hang off the bed as he laid in total bliss. The pain he had felt was gone, somehow, and the only thing he wanted to do was sleep. He could feel the smile on his own face as Jessie cooed over the baby near him and he slowly faded out. It was the deepest sleep he had ever felt. So relaxing and calm.

Darkness and silence were all around him.

But he wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … Well. That happened, huh? ;D Happy Birthday, Gibson and Grace! :D As heart-wrenching (and at times, overly-dramatic) as this chapter was, at least we got some enjoyment from seeing those twins be born, right? (Please don’t murder me yet.) XD If you know me – which, if you’re reading this, I know you do – you know that I would never leave a story hanging like this. For those of you who are feeling bad for Lucifer, you’ll probably be glad to know his story arc isn’t quite over yet. Clarence is currently scared shitless, but all first-time fathers are, I’m sure. Good thing he has so many parents to help coach him. lol ;D There were several different ways I thought about approaching the final confrontation between Lucifer and Chuck, but I hope you liked the direction I decided to take it. And I’m so sorry for the angst at the end. (Again, if you know me, you know everything will be alright.) ;D At the end of the day, Jude and Clare’s twins are alive and well on earth. And that’s the best news I’ve personally had in a while. ;D Guys, you are all such blessings to me. I want you to know that. This has been a really hard year so far and I cannot thank you enough for being rays of sunshine to me. I love you all! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster that ends on a bittersweet note. Just wanted you to be prepared. lol ;) Enjoy!

Of all the terrible outcomes Lucifer assumed he was destined to have, being awake with another person in the Empty wasn’t one of them.

The devil no longer had a physical form. He was just a red, wispy version of his former self; a celestial ghost of sorts that hovered over the void of the Empty like an unextinguished flame. He had no idea why his soul was still active. In the Empty, dead angels were meant to sleep forever. But there he was, wide awake and staring at the form directly opposite him.

Though it took him a second or two of studying, Lucifer eventually realized that he was sharing the same space as a nephilim. Judging by the unique shade of shimmering white with just a touch of blue, the nephilim was a product if Castiel’s grace. Castiel and Dean Winchester’s original offspring, perhaps. Though, its grace was drastically dimmer than Lucifer remembered. This was not the same nephilim that stopped Death’s blade. This version was much weaker, like its very aura had been severed in half.

But it didn’t matter anyway. Both Lucifer and the nephilim were dead. Their souls weren’t sleeping like they should have been, but the fact remained. When the ghostly nephilim hovering nearby became aware of Lucifer’s presence, its aura shuddered with surprise.

“L – Lucifer?” he asked.

The devil’s shock persisted. Not only were they awake, but they could communicate with each other? This day was full of surprises… Seeing Lucifer must have been confirmation of their situation, because the nephilim sighed greatly.

“We must be dead…” he assumed blandly.

The devil didn’t speak. He didn’t want to. What he really wanted to do was sleep forever until he faded out of existence, yet this nephilim was making it impossible. Lucifer could sense the pain the nephilim was in. Maybe he accidently killed himself trying to give birth to an unholy abomination. Despite his pain, the Nephilim seemed to take the news of his own demise in stride, which was odd. Didn’t he care that he had family on the other side?

“Aren’t you supposed to be pregnant?” Lucifer snapped.

He was hoping to get some response. Having a conversation about any topic was better than endless silence. Lucifer knew that from personal experience. Even though Lucifer had mentioned something delicate, the nephilim remained calm.

“No… I just had them,” he answered.

“Them?”

“Twins,” he said, sounding proud, “A boy and a girl… Gibson and Grace.”

If Lucifer still had a body, he would have rolled his eyes on the spot. Ugh. What terrible names… The nephilim’s heartache was nearly tangible as he hovered near Lucifer. The devil could almost feel it for himself; the overwhelming anguish of missing something so terribly. Of _loving_ something so much that it hurt.

“At least I got to hold them,” the nephilim sighed, words saturated with raw sadness, “At least I got to hear them cry before… before I died… Shit… Poor Clare... Poor Dad and Papa… They’re gonna be so sad…”

Lucifer briefly turned away from the nephilim. His own thoughts were on his brother. Michael’s face had been the last image in his mind when he transcended into the Empty. Despite their differences, Michael had actually _mourned_ Lucifer’s passing. The archangel shed genuine tears when Lucifer’s grace exploded. Even after everything Lucifer had done, Michael still loved him. Right to the bitter end…

“I’m… I’m really tired,” the nephilim breathed, “Is that normal?”

The question gave Lucifer a stir of emotion. It would be easy for the devil to say ‘yes.’ The nephilim would sleep and disappear forever, then Lucifer would finally have the peace he had always wanted. But something was preventing him from saying it. Maybe it was the touch of guilt that Michael’s tears left in Lucifer’s system. Maybe a spark of sympathy had been struck within him. Maybe because they were both stuck in the same predicament, but the nephilim had lost much more. Whatever the case, the devil felt that he couldn’t let the nephilim go to sleep.

“No. Don’t fall sleep,” he finally replied.

“Wh – why?”

“Because you’re awake for a reason,” Lucifer tried to explain, “The Empty puts celestial beings into a comatose state, understand? You fall asleep, you don’t wake up.”

“But we’re awake now.”

“No shit,” Lucifer spat, “That means you can get back.”

“Get back? How?” he asked.

Lucifer audibly scoffed. As if the nephilim needed his divine advice…

“You bent Death’s scythe with your bare hand and you’re asking _me_?” the devil hissed, “You’re the almighty one, here. You figure it out.”

Over the black void, the nephilim’s light dimmed slightly.

“I… gave up most of my grace to save my daughter,” he mumbled woefully, “I don’t think it will be enough to do anything almighty –”

“Horseshit,” Lucifer interrupted, “You smote Darkness itself. Do you think it was obliterated because you made excuses, glorified the problem, and gave up? No. You heard your family do that ungodly sing-along, and it helped you find the willpower to do it. You performed a miracle all by yourself. And guess what? You can do this, too. Stop saying you can’t and _prove_ that you _can_.”

Lucifer’s voice echoed through the void like a rock dropped down a long shaft. The nephilim must have been shocked to hear the devil trying to be so helpful, because he was silent and still for several moments. There was no need for him to be so surprised. Lucifer could be helpful if he wanted to. He just never saw the point before.

After a moment, the nephilim’s grace began to flex in the void. The light grew and shifted, almost pulsing like a star. Lucifer could hear the nephilim straining. He was trying so hard to use his grace; to force a door open to the other side. Soon enough, a tiny crack of light appeared near him. It was faint at first but quickly grew into a full-fledged opening. The slice was enough for celestial aura to move through. In fact, Lucifer could feel the tug of it on his own grace. The nephilim’s grace seemed nearly shot, though. He had used a lot of it to open the portal, but it was still lit. Barely.

“I think I did it,” he breathed, sounding excited, “I can get back!”

Lucifer felt pride and warm come over his grace. With just a little coaxing, he was able to convince a weak nephilim to do things that only a god could do.

“Good. Now go,” Lucifer said.

Strangely, the nephilim hesitated.

“Wait… You’re not coming with me?”

A surge of awe rippled through Lucifer’s grace. After everything he had done – countless murders, manipulations, tortures, plagues, famines, floods, all of the sins – one of his enemies _still_ offered him kindness? Automatic forgiveness? Either that nephilim was the stupidest, most gullible, naïve person that had ever lived, or… Or Lucifer was actually worthy of mercy… Despite the extremely generous offer, Lucifer knew he had to decline it. God was waiting just on the other side of that portal, and after the argument they just had, Lucifer didn’t want to see him for several millennia at least. Not to mention Michael, whose arms Lucifer had just died in…

“No. I’m staying here,” Lucifer answered.

“B – but…”

“No buts,” Lucifer denied, “Nobody gets to boss me around. And that includes you. I’ll stay here if I want. Now get out.”

Still, the nephilim remained.

“But… Michael will be sad.”

Lucifer couldn’t lie to himself. He knew that statement hurt. Looking back, Michael was the only one who ever really gave him chance after chance to do the right thing. Maybe all that time they spent together in that cage was actually good for something…

“Look, you don’t owe me anything… but when you make it back, will you tell him and Gabe that I said, ‘I’m sorry?’ Just them, nobody else,” Lucifer requested, searching the nephilim’s glowing form over, “I never meant for them to get caught up in Dad’s and my fight…”

The nephilim looked to the shining opening and then back to Lucifer.

“Yeah,” he answered, slowly moving toward the crack in the void, “I’ll tell them. I promise. Thank you, Lucifer.”

Lucifer’s entire being tingled again. He had never heard someone say ‘thank you’ to him before.

“Bye,” Lucifer mumbled.

He wasn’t sure if the nephilim heard it or not, because the white glow of his grace floated through the crack in the void and they both disappeared within the blink of an eye. Lucifer was suddenly alone once again, with nothing but the scarlet shine of his own grace to comfort him… or so he thought. Soon after the nephilim was gone, a darkened figure stepped into the light. And what a fine, curvy figure it was…

Death herself stood before Lucifer’s grace in the Empty. She was completely restored to her beautiful self, and even held a scythe in her hands. The weapon looked brand new, but different from the one that Lucifer had taken from her. The handle in her hand was solid metal, unlike the wooden one that Michael and Gabriel were able to break. Death must have seen Lucifer ogling both her body and the scythe because she tightened her grip on the weapon.

“When you broke my toy, I got a nice, shiny new one,” Death explained, choking the neck of the scythe, “You pissed me off. I brought it here to reap your soul permanently.”

If Lucifer still had a body, he would have shuddered. Not just from the terror of the threat, but from how _sexy_ it sounded coming out of Death’s mouth. The devil tried to brace himself for the impending sensation of being reaped, but the scythe never moved. Death only held it firmly and stared hard at Lucifer.

“But,” she sighed, lowering her lovely brown eyes, “Since you sent that nephilim back, I figure I’ll let you stay here. For now.”

Lucifer was relieved but confused. Even _Death_ was showing him mercy? What kind of fever dream was he stuck in?

“Wait. You came all the way to the Empty to reap me, but now you’re not going to?” Lucifer recapped, feeling smug, “Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. You can admit that you have feelings for me…”

Death instantly picked up the scythe and held the blade to the vicinity of Lucifer’s throat.

“Don’t push it, snake. You’re lucky I’m even allowing you to talk right now,” Death warned.

Lucifer struggled to come up with a reasonable response as he wiggled in place.

“Anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are when you’re pissed?” he hummed.

Death groaned and rolled her eyes as she removed the scythe from Lucifer’s throat to plant it next to her again.

“Consider this a warning,” she said sternly, ignoring his comment, “If you ever try to mess things up again, you’ll wish for the cage. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lucifer purred.

With her order in place, Death nodded and turned to leave. But the sight of the last physical person walking away from him made Lucifer panic.

“Wait,” he suddenly called.

To his surprise, Death actually stopped. Though he felt like a child for asking, Lucifer knew that being alone in the Empty would remind him of the cage. And he was so very, very sick of being all alone for eons at a time.

“If you have some free time, would you… Would you mind… visiting me?” Lucifer asked, barely over a whisper, “I swear, I’ll try to curb the cheeky comments. It just… It would be nice to see a familiar face now and then. Especially one as perfect as yours.”

Death slowly turned on her heel to face the devil, who tried his best to appear meek. For once in his life, he was being honest. He didn’t want to be alone, and Death must have sensed his genuineness.

“… Maybe,” she mumbled, “Not that you deserve it.”

Lucifer sighed with relief. A maybe was better than a no. Death shook her head at the devil’s delight.

“Now go to sleep. Or I’ll knock you out for good.”

Death left after her demand, leaving Lucifer to sit smugly in his own scarlet glow. The funny thing was that he felt exhausted. Not a bad, grumpy tired, but a peaceful end-of-the-work-day tired. With Death’s ‘maybe’ visit to look forward to, Lucifer slowly and carefully allowed his grace to dim until it was snuffed out completely. And after enduring an entire history of rage, abandonment, and vengeance, he was finally able to rest.

* * *

The next thing Jude recalled when he passed through the vale was the sound of someone sobbing. He became aware of his own physical pain in waves that started from his stomach and echoed upward. Though his body hurt, he couldn’t do much but lay still and listen to the loud weeping. It was directly in his ear; a mournful groan that broke his heart. He was being held up in someone’s arms, but he couldn’t tell who it was at first. Not until he forced his eyes to blink open.

Jet black hair against the side of Jude’s head was all he needed to see. It was Papa. Pop was crushing Jude to his chest and crying louder than Jude had ever heard before. His body was trembling, and he was slightly rocking back and forth, as if he was in so much agony that he couldn’t sit still. Jude was genuinely heartbroken. Papa had never been so sad before in his whole life. Jude had to stop the poor guy from crying.

“P – Papa,” Jude breathed.

The older angel gasped and leaned back to look down at Jude’s face in shock. Jude blinked up at his Papa, seeing that his face was wet with tears and smudged with blood. Only after staring at Jude for several seconds did Papa exhale and sob one more time.

“ _Son_ ,” he breathed, petting Jude’s hair with his nervous, blood-stained hand, “ _My son! My Jude! You’re alive!_ ”

Papa proceeded to kiss Jude’s face a few times and hug him again, during which Jude smiled a little and tried to hug him back. It was difficult to do because of the angle he was laying in. Not to mention the sharp twinges of pain that shot through him every time he tried to maneuver around.

“I’m here,” Jude agreed, cringing slightly from the pain, “Wh – where is everyone? Clare? The – the babies?”

“They are in the kitchen. It’s okay. Everything is alright, now,” Pop answered, sniffling as he carefully laid Jude back down on the mattress, “Lie down, son. I will make you comfortable.”

Jude did what his Pop said and allowed himself to lay back to rest his head on the sweaty pillow. They were the only two people in the pantry at the moment. When Papa stood up, Jude was able to see how terrible his own wound was. The skin of his stomach was all stretched out and butchered open, and he was covered in blood from the abdomen down. With shaky hands, Papa reached out to heal him with his grace. Jude was surprised at how nice the healing felt. The restorative light was amazing as it instantly returned his body to normal; sizing the skin down, repairing the open wound, and discretely getting rid of some of the blood on his body. The pain subsided too, leaving Jude feeling better than he had in a long time. Once he was done, Papa put his grace away and looked to Jude with concern.

“I – I did not detect your grace…” he breathed shallowly.

Jude understood the statement. Jude’s grace was all gone. He had given half to save his daughter and used the rest to get out of the Empty. If he had any left, it was severely damaged. Jude was basically human, now. Papa probably saw that as a bad thing, but Jude was perfectly at peace with it. For once in his life, he felt contently normal.

“It’s okay, Papa. I promise,” Jude assured.

Though he still looked a little heartbroken, Papa nodded and unfolded a clean blanket from the end of the bed to spread over Jude’s body and the bloodstained mattress. Jude smiled when Papa began to gently tuck him in. It was nice to know that Pop still saw him as his little boy, despite the fact that he had just given birth to his own kids. Once Jude was comfy, Papa leaned down to press a firm kiss to Jude’s forehead and hug him again. 

“Would you like to see your children?” the older angel asked.

Jude smiled and nodded instantly. Of course he wanted to see his babies! He wanted to see his whole family! Papa wiped the leftover tears from his own blue eyes and took a deep breath before walking over to open the pantry door. Jude could instantly hear various voices of his family from the other room, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Instead of coming back to help Jude up, Papa grabbed the end of the twin-sized bed and began to pull it out of the pantry. It scooted effortlessly across the wooden floor into the kitchen, where the voices quieted as Jude emerged. Jude watched from the safety of the mattress as his Dad rushed over to help Papa pull him out. When they met eyes, Dad smirked.

“I couldn’t be prouder of you, little man,” he stated sweetly.

Jude gulped and smiled back as he clung to the blanket over him. He adored hearing the love his parents had for him… Clare was next to dash to the bed. The handsome – but obviously nervous – demon was holding a swaddle of clean towels in the crook of one arm as he reached with his free hand to help pull the bed out into the kitchen.

“Jay,” Clare rejoiced, immediately sitting on the edge of the bed next to Jude to wrap him in a hug, “Oh God, I was so worried about you. You scared the shit out of me, but you did so good. Look.”

Clare carefully maneuvered the towel into Jude’s arm, revealing their newborn son tucked neatly inside. Gibson was all clean, now – probably washed with the warm water that Papa had requested – and was gurgling and cooing to himself as he laid in the nice dry towel. Jude instantly drank in the sight of their baby, seeing the shape of Clare’s chin and Jude’s small nose in his features. Although seeing Gibson was amazing, Jude felt a twinge of panic as he looked around the gathering crowd.

“Where’s Grace?” Jude asked.

“Here.”

Jude turned toward the sound of Jess’s voice and found her carefully moving passed Bobby and Meg to get to him. There was a bundle of white towels in her arms too, which she quickly and cautiously held out toward him.

“She’s here. And she’s perfect,” Jessie said, tearing up with a smile as she gave the baby to Jude, “Ten fingers and ten toes. I counted for you.”

Jude giggled and felt tears of his own swell as he took the bundled baby into his free arm and looked down at her. Now that the twins were next to each other in his grasp, Jude could see that Grace was slightly smaller than Gibson. She was dainty and lady-like, while Gibson seemed larger and more impatient. Both babies were whimpering and moving in their towels like they were uncomfortable.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Papa’s here,” Jude hummed to the newborns in his arms, “Papa’s got you. It’s alright.”

As if he had spoken magic, the twins stopped moving and blinked toward him. The crowd around the bed cooed and awed over how sweet it was, but Jude didn’t look up. He was too focused on his children. He wasn’t sure which baby to look at. His blue eyes kept bouncing between each perfect infant, unable to comprehend the sheer awesomeness of it all.

Less than a week before that moment, Jude had begged for just a single child. Now, he was holding _two_ ; two perfect, breathing, adorable babies. They weren’t just a wish or prayer anymore. They were physically in his arms, now. Something he thought would never be possible was laying right before his eyes. They were his dreams come true… They were his miracles.

Jude felt Clare’s warm lips press against the side of his head as they gazed down at their brand new children. The demon was cuddled up next to Jude in the bed, cradling the edge of their daughter’s towel with his long fingers.

“By the way… Grace? Perfect name,” Clare hummed in Jude’s ear.

A thought popped into Jude’s head that made him smile.

“Grace Clare,” he announced, smirking a little, “Grace Clare Winchester.”

Clarence chuckled fondly, the sound making Jude’s smile widen into a smug grin.

“Then I guess this is Gibson Jay Winchester,” the demon added, reaching down to touch the edge of their son’s tiny hand, “How about that, Gib? You good with that name?”

The baby only blinked and used his small hand to grab Clare’s finger. The demon chuckled a little at the sensation, probably finding it too adorable to handle. In the meantime, Jude raised his daughter closer to his face so that he could gently kiss her warm forehead.

Jude might not have been much of an angel anymore, but he still had his grace. She was right there, in his arms…

* * *

When he woke up from what felt like the greatest nap ever, Gabriel slowly realized he was laying in someone’s arms. Whoever it was must have been ripped, because Gabe could feel their biceps flexing under his shoulders and head. The archangel blinked his eyes open and looked up toward the bright sky to see a head of shaggy brown hair hovering over him. It was a tall guy with shoulder length hair and gorgeous eyes. And the face… Wow, what a face…

“Damn, you’re hot.”

Gabriel blurted it before he could stop himself. The guy holding him heard it, though, and seemed really happy to hear Gabe talk.

“Gabe! Oh, thank God!” the man exhaled, scooping the archangel up to hug him horizontally.

Gabe gulped and enjoyed the moment, hugging the handsome tall man back. Did they know each other? Why was he so happy? More importantly, was he in a relationship with anyone?

“Hey, uh, nice to see you too,” Gabe said casually, leaning back to look at the kid’s face again, “This might sound a little forward, but… Can I have your number?”

Since the guy seemed so concerned about him, Gabe thought he would take a shot at flirting. Unfortunately, the hottie seemed confused. His eyebrows furrowed and he held up his left hand to display the golden wedding band on his finger. Gabriel grimaced. Dammit. Why did all the hot ones have to be taken?

“You’re married?” Gabe huffed, “Bummer…”

“I’m married to _you_ , Gabe,” the guy said.

He held up Gabe’s left hand between them, revealing the matching golden band on Gabe’s own finger. Holy shit! Gabe was _married_ to that guy?! The hot one, with the flowy mane of hair and huge muscles?

“You are?” the archangel replied, “Sweet! Wait… Does that mean I get to have sex with you?”

The man groaned and turned to look behind him.

“Chuck!” he called.

Gabe wanted to ask his super-hot husband who he was talking to, but before he could even sit up to look around, a loud snap echoed from nearby – and a rush of memories came flooding back to Gabriel’s mind. _Being with Sam, having a daughter, getting married, moving into the bunker, meeting Oliver Thompson, watching the kids go to their first dance, fighting through purgatory, defeating darkness, killing Death, watching Jess get married, becoming a grandfather, taking Billie’s scythe, breaking it with his own grace_ – Gabriel’s entire life with Sam flew threw his head in under twelve seconds. It left the archangel cradling his skull and squinting his eyes, blinking toward the charcoal ground in a daze. Lucifer. They were defending the cabin from Lucifer, then Gabriel broke the scythe. Breaking the weapon must have knocked him out cold, and taken most of his memories with it.

“Gabe?” Sam asked, gently touching the archangel’s shoulder, “Are you alright? Do you remember me?”

Gabe panted for a second, still reeling from having his brain restored. But then, he looked up to give his husband the best smirk he could muster.

“Yeah. You’re Sam Winchester,” Gabe stated, “You take your coffee straight black. You read sci-fi novels when no one’s looking. You sleep with a light on because you don’t like being in the dark. You hate when I talk about Canada. But you love it when I get into drag… That sound about right?”

Sam chuckled breathlessly, looking on the verge of tears as he stroked some of Gabe’s hair and nodded.

“Yeah. That’s right,” he smiled.

Gabe smiled back before reaching over to wrap the kid into his arms and meet their lips. Both of them were covered in dirt and soot, and the taste nearly invaded their kiss. Luckily, they were able to hold it off by deepening the meaningful embrace. But as Gabriel sat making out with his husband on the ground, he remembered what just happened and slowly realized… 

“Holy shit, I broke Death’s scythe,” he pulled away to say, instantly looking around, “She’s gonna be pissed. Where’s Mike and Lucifer?”

The blissful smile slipped away from Sam’s mouth, leaving him looking a little sad. He wrapped an arm around Gabe’s lower back, probably as a way of preparing him with a comforting gesture, before slowly pointing to the left. Gabe followed the direction – and his mouth fell open in horror.

Michael was kneeling on the ground near the front of the cabin. His bloodied sword was cast to the side and Lucifer’s vessel was in his arms. The eyes were burned out and three sets of wings had been etched into the Earth around him. Gabe almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He may have been angry with Lucifer, but he never wanted him to die. He was shocked that Michael actually had to kill him. Deep down, Gabe hoped that destroying the scythe would stop Lucifer’s rampage. But it seemed that even with his powerful weapon gone, Lucifer still made the wrong choices… With a hard sniff, Michael turned his head, revealing the tears in his eyes as he looked beyond Sam and Gabe.

“Father… Bring him back.”

Father? Gabriel spun to look in the direction Michael was staring and found God standing there among them. After having his head refilled with memories, Gabe should have known that his old man was there, but it didn’t hit him until he saw the guy. Despite all the chaos, God looked calm as ever. He lightly stepped over the blackened battlefield to kneel down next to Michael.

“This might be hard to hear, but your brother doesn’t want to come back,” Chuck said softly, “He doesn’t want to see either of us. He chose this. And though his absence will be painful, you can rest in the knowledge that he is finally at peace.”

Michael cringed, closing his eyes and hugging Lucifer’s empty vessel close. Gabriel could feel a stirring of tears attempting to sneak its way out of his eyes. He had never seen Michael cry before… After a moment of silence, God carefully reached down to take Lucifer’s vessel from Michael’s arms. He lifted the weight without an ounce of struggle, pausing again to look between Michael and Gabriel.

“Forgive me,” Chuck murmured, “Forgive us both…”

Then he was gone. God took Lucifer’s vessel and disappeared, leaving Michael, Gabriel, and their husbands sitting on a fresh battlefield. Gabriel gulped as he briefly shared a look with his mourning older brother. Adam, who had been standing next to Michael the whole time, reached down to gently tap on the archangel’s shoulder.

“Come on, Mike. Let’s get Katherine,” he said tenderly.

With help from Adam, Michael slowly got to his feet. In the meantime, Sam raised Gabriel as he stood up, practically carting the small archangel like a doll. Once standing, Gabe was able to walk along with Sam’s slow strides as they made their way to the cabin. It took Gabriel everything he had not to look down at the graffiti wings as he passed by them…

It was a totally different world inside the cabin. Everyone was gathered excitedly in the kitchen; laughing, talking, and bouncing Charlie and Katherine around. Seeing the babies made Gabriel realize that Jude must have delivered his twins during the commotion with Lucifer. Low and behold, when he and Sam got close enough to the pantry, Gabe could see that the bed had been moved out into the kitchen with Jude still in it. Two swaddles of towels were in each bend of Jude’s arms, no doubt containing his twins. Jude himself looked extremely pale. Yet, despite his lack of color, Jude was smiling wide enough to light up the whole room. Gabe’s soul felt better just looking at the kid. He had wanted to be a parent for so long and now his dream had come true. Who wouldn’t smile at that?

Jude eventually caught sight of Gabriel and Michael and his award-winning smile faltered slightly. A hint of seriousness took over and he nodded toward them both.

“Hey, uncle Gabe. Michael. Come here,” he called.

Gabe and Mike looked to each other before sifting through the crowd to get to the bed. Jude carefully handed off his twins to other people and asked for some privacy as they came close, which Gabe found odd. What was so important that he needed to talk to the archangels in private? After dismissing most of the family, Jude reached up to take Gabe and Michael each by the hand.

“I talked to Lucifer,” the kid said.

“You spoke to him? How?” Michael breathed.

“I sort of… died,” Jude admitted, making Gabe’s heart flip in his chest, “We were together in the Empty, and he helped me get back.”

“He _helped_ you?” Gabriel scoffed.

Jude nodded and tightened his fingers around Gabe and Mike’s hands.

“He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry.”

Gabe felt his breath catch in his throat. He had never been well-versed in the practice of grief because, frankly, everyone he ever loved was still alive. But now that Lucifer was in the Empty, it struck him differently than he was used to. And hearing Jude relay the message that he was _sorry_? That just about shattered his heart. Why couldn’t Lucifer have said that to his face? Why did he have to wait until he was dead to say it? More importantly, _why did hearing it hurt so much_?!

“Thank you, Jude,” Michael breathed, sounding on the verge of tears again as he pat the back of Jude’s hand, “I am truly grateful that you are alive.”

“Me too,” Jude smiled, turning to look at Gabriel, “Gabe? Are you okay?”

Gabe wanted to answer, but he couldn’t. His voice was lodged in his throat, right next to his thumping heart. He wasn’t used to feeling so sad, but Sam seemed to understand right away. The large man gently tugged Gabriel out of Jude’s grasp so that he could wrap both arms around him. Gabriel was suddenly smothered with Sam’s warmth and musk; surrounded by the guy’s love and affection.

“It’s okay to grieve for your brother, Gabe. I’ve got you.”

The sound of Sam’s voice mixed with the knowledge of Lucifer’s apology cracked the wall of Gabriel’s dam, and tears suddenly ran down his face like rain. His big brother was officially gone… But at least he was at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the feels. :( It sounded like most of you were split on the decision to redeem Lucifer’s character or not, so I settled for middle ground. He’s somewhat redeemed, but his soul will remain in the Empty. (If the Winchesters ever need him for anything, they know where to find him. Lol) ;D When he was helping Jude in the beginning of the chapter and Jude thanked him, I couldn’t help think of the meme from Wreck-It Ralph. “Thanks, Satan.” XD Though we didn’t see it, Castiel tried everything in his power to bring Jude back. That was why he was sobbing so loudly when Jude woke up. (Jude’s his baby! Of course he was freaking out!) ;D And I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to knock the memories out of Gabriel’s head and let him flirt with Sam for a second. I was in dire need of some Sabriel fluff and Gabe always delivers. ;D From here on out, It will be nothing but fluff, folks. This story is finally winding down, and I’m gonna try my best to provide the sweetest ending possible for each character. And the very last chapter will be extra special. ;) I cannot thank you enough for reading this fic and giving me valuable feedback. You are the best human beings on the planet, and I wish nothing but good things for all of you during this difficult time! Thank you so much! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	16. Chapter 16

Clarence never realized how tiny and fragile a newborn could be until his children were right before his eyes. Changing his daughter’s diaper felt more like trying to polish a glass vase. He was so afraid that he would accidently hurt her little legs and feet that he barely touched her at all, which presented a conundrum. How was he supposed to clean her up and dress her if he couldn’t move her? Grace seemed fussy; whining, kicking, and waving her stubby arms. The task seemed impossible.

“Uh, Bobby? Crowley? A little help?” Clare eventually called.

The demon was sitting in the living room at his and Jude’s house, where the family had been brought earlier by the angels. Jude and Jessica were giving Gibson his first proper bath in the bathroom, while Grace – who had just gotten her own bath – was laying in front of Clare on the couch. Luckily, Bobby and Crowley heard him and walked over from the kitchen, carrying their coffee mugs in hand.

“What’s the matter, son?” Bobby asked.

“I’m not sure what to do. She keeps moving around and I’m afraid I’ll break her,” Clare answered nervously.

Crowley chuckled. It was a smug, haughty sound that he only made when he was dealing with someone foolish.

“Babies are pretty tough, boy. You won’t break her,” Bobby promised.

“But look how tiny she is,” Clare huffed, gesturing to the extremely small and painfully beautiful infant in front of him, “I’ve got _shoes_ bigger than her.”

“Maybe. But she ain’t made of porcelain. It’s alright to handle her,” Bobby assured, “Go on and lift her up.”

Though his boney fingers were slightly trembling, Clare took a deep breath and reached to clasp Grace’s feet. He quickly and carefully lifted her bottom half up long enough to slide part of her diaper under her and lay her back down on it. He folded the top half over and fastened the sides as fast and delicately as he could, trying not to bother her too much. The diaper was one thing, but her clothes were another. How was he going to get her fragile head and arms through her onesie?

“Put her head through first,” Bobby said, as if he saw Clare’s hesitation and heard the question in Clare’s head.

Clare grabbed the soft cloth but paused again. He was unsure how to handle her. Grace blinked up and him and made little ‘eh’ sounds, like she was waiting on him to get her dressed. The poor baby was probably embarrassed and freezing, which only made Clare feel worse.

“Shall I get mother?” Crowley offered.

“No,” Clare blurted, “She’s my daughter. I’ve got it.”

Despite his shaking hands, Clarence carefully scooped a hand under Grace’s tiny body so that he could hook the shirt over her soft, warm head and tug it down. After laying her back on the couch, he was able to loop the bottom half around her and clasp it closed, sealing her in a protective layer of fresh, clean, pastel fabric. The words ‘Daddy’s Little Angel’ were on the front. Grace seemed grateful for the added warmth because her cooing calmed into silence. Still, her eyes were on Clarence and he couldn’t help but smile down at her sweet, adorable face.

“I did it, Gracie,” he sang, “We did it!”

Bobby smirked from above, looking like a proud granddad.

“One diaper down, ten million to go,” the old man muttered fondly.

Most people probably would have been disheartened to hear that statement, but Clare saw it as a fun challenge. For him, and especially Jude, getting to change their children’s diapers felt like a privilege.

Clare grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch – the fluffy one with all of Jude’s favorite comic book characters on it – and picked up Grace again to wrap her up in it. In the meantime, from the corner of his eye, Clare caught sight of the bathroom door opening. Jess, carrying Gibson, walked out and went to the main bedroom with Jude following her. Clare noticed that his husband was hunched over and holding his now flat stomach like he was in pain. With his daughter all cozy in his arms, Clarence carefully got up from the couch to join the others in the bedroom.

“See you in a minute,” he mentioned to the older fellows.

Bobby and Crowley nodded him off before walking back to the kitchen. Clare held his daughter tightly against his chest as he made his way to the bedroom behind Jess and Jude. Jessica, being a seasoned parent compared to Jude and Clare, sat down on the bed and effortlessly diapered and clothed Gibson in a matter of minutes. All her time spent with Charlie really shined through. Jude stood meekly by the end of the bed and watched, still holding his own abdomen.

“Jay,” Clare whispered as he reached up to clasp his husband’s shoulder, “You alright?”

Jude immediately put on a fake smile and nodded, forcing himself to stand up straighter. He probably didn’t want Clare to worry, but it was too late. Clare was anxious, and Jude’s fake smile only added kindling to it.

“You’re still in pain, aren’t you?” Clare guessed, cradling Grace closer between them, “Should we call Cas? He would –”

“No, don’t call him. He’s busy,” Jude denied, “I’m fine, Clare. Really.”

Though Jude’s voice was soft and genuine, Clare knew that something was wrong. Jude just didn’t want to admit it. Maybe it was because Jessica was there. Clare was sure that once he got Jude alone, the angel would be more likely to open up about why he was in pain.

At the moment, Cas, Gabe, and Michael were all back at the bunker wreckage. The angels were going to assess the damage and see if the place was salvageable. Clare figured that between the three angels and their ridiculously powerful grace, they would at least be able to restore some of the rooms. The rest of the family were back at Jude and Clare’s place. After what happened at the cabin, none of them wanted to stay there, and Clare didn’t much blame them. The outside looked like a nuke site…

“There,” Jessica hummed, gaining Clare and Jude’s attention as she gently raised Gibson from the bed and into her arms, “All clean. He’ll sleep peacefully, now. They both will.”

Clare glanced down at Grace against his chest, seeing that she was blinking much slower. She was even sucking on a couple of her fingers, using them like a pacifier, which was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

“We should put them together,” Jude suggested.

Clare and Jessica shared a glance before he walked over to the bed and carefully laid Grace down on it. He opened the fluffy blanket so that Jessica could lay Gibson next to Grace. The babies seemed to sense each other’s presence instantly. Their tiny arms awkwardly swatted toward each other until they got a good grip and held on. With a gentle hand, Clare nudged Gibson even closer to Grace so that they were touching sides before snugly wrapping them up. Watching them tangle together made Clare realize that they probably did the same thing in Jude’s womb. Maybe they hadn’t been kicking, but just making sure they could feel each other. Within minutes, the twins were fast asleep, laying side-by-side like two little peas in a pod.

“They’re so sweet,” Jess mentioned with a smile, “You guys did a great job.”

Clare scoffed and shook his head.

“Jude did all the work,” he corrected, reaching over to take his husband’s hand and smile at him, “I’m so proud of you, Jay.”

As usual, Jude blushed and bashfully lowered his head. While they shared the small moment together, a few knocks came from the bedroom door and it opened on its own. Oliver’s head of bright red hair popped in and he looked nervously among all the faces staring at him.

“Um, Mom’s here. And she has no idea that you guys have kids,” he explained, scratching the back of his head, “Did you want to tell her, or… ?”

“Yeah, we’ll show her the babies,” Jude answered, “but, do you think you could give me and Clare a few minutes alone first?”

Clarence looked to his husband with concern. Jude wanted to be alone? Maybe the guy wanted to express his true feelings away from everyone else. Jessica instantly rose up from the bed and nodded.

“Sure. Charlie and I can keep Jane occupied. Just let us know when you’re ready, okay?”

Jude smiled and nodded, seeming grateful for the offered distraction. Jessica walked passed Oliver to leave the room, but the ginger kid lingered to give Jude a thumbs up.

“By the way, Jude, great job on the baby thing. You’re, like, the only guy I know that has ever carried and given birth to babies… Wait, does that make you a Mom? Hey, now you can celebrate Mother’s Day – _ack_!”

Oliver’s praise came to an abrupt end when Jessica sternly yanked him out of the door and closed it. Clare only grinned and rolled his eyes. At least Oliver tried to be complimentary… Once the husbands were alone, Jude leaned over to carefully sit on the end of the bed next to their sleeping babies. Clare studied him for a second, noticing that he was still discretely holding his abdomen. The guy had to be in pain, otherwise he wouldn’t be cringing like that.

“Alright, Jay. No more ‘modesty’ bullshit. What’s wrong? How much pain are you in?” Clare asked.

The demon crossed his own arms for good measure, letting Jude see that he was being serious. Jude sighed and shook his head, dropping his blue eyes toward the floor.

“I’m not in pain, I swear. I’m just… getting used to… to being…”

Jude trailed off, but Clare continued to wait for the rest of the explanation. The angel eventually looked back up at the demon and all the humor had left his face. Jude looked dead serious; so much that it gave Clare a small chill.

“Clare, I have to tell you something. But I don’t want you to freak out.”

Clarence instantly started to freak out. Oh, shit. Why did Jude have to start a sentence like that? Whatever came out of his mouth next was sure to be awful! How was Clare supposed to prepare himself?

“Shit,” the demon huffed, “What is it?”

Jude took a deep breath but maintained eye contact. All Clarence could do was stare into the ocean blue and wait for the terrible news.

“When Grace came out, she wasn’t breathing,” Jude began.

Clare’s emotions exploded into a tangled mess in his chest. His sight flickered toward the tiny sleeping baby girl in front of him and he felt a strange urge to scoop her up and protect her. From what, he didn’t know; maybe just death itself. Because the thought of not having her – of her coming into the world already dead – haunted him like nothing else.

“So, I saved her. But in order to do that, I… gave her some of my grace,” Jude went on calmly, “It was kind of weird, because it felt like it was meant to happen – like I had been carrying around the extra grace all my life just to give it to her.”

The idea brought a wisp of a smile back to Clare’s face. Jude had always hated his own grace. Looking back, it made perfect sense that it wasn’t all meant for him. But Clare’s happiness faded once he saw that Jude still wasn’t smiling.

“But when I saved her, I sort of…,” Jude mumbled, “Well, I – I kind of… died.”

At first, Clare wasn’t sure if he heard the words correctly. Did Jude just say that he died? As in, the life left his body? As in, _Clare’s worst nightmare had come true?_

“Y – You what?” Clare breathed.

“I woke up in the Empty, with Lucifer –“

“ _You died?!_ ” Clare gasped.

The demon could barely think straight. His heart was pounding, his eyes were watering, and he had a sudden urge to break something. His breath picked up and he began to pant like he was on the verge of a panic attack, which made Jude jump up from the bed and grab his arm.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here – ”

“ _You died!_ ” Clare exclaimed again, “What did I tell you, Jay?! _Didn’t I tell you that I couldn’t live without you?!_ ”

“ _Shhh_ , you’ll wake the babies,” Jude warned, quickly and tenderly rubbing Clare’s hand as he glanced toward the twins and back to the demon, “I’m still here, Clare. I came back. It’s alright –”

Clare lunged forward to wrap Jude into a crushing hug, holding the angel tight to his chest so that he could feel Jude’s heart beating against his own. The mere thought of losing Jude terrified him. But finding out that it had actually happened?! Right under his own nose?! 

“I told you not to leave me, Jude! Dammit,” Clare panted into his husband’s ear.

“I won’t ever leave you, Clare. I promise,” Jude vowed sweetly, pulling himself back a little so that they could look each other in the eye again, “I came back. I’m here. But,” he paused to take another big breath, “but I’m not the same.”

Clare blinked at his husband, searching his perfectly familiar face and seeing no flaws.

“You – you look the same to me,” the demon admitted.

“I know... But… my angel grace is gone,” Jude said under his breath, as if it was the most shameful sentence that he had ever spoken, “I won’t be able to heal you anymore. I can’t light up. I can’t smite bad guys. Hell, I – I can’t even fly anymore. My wings are gone. I’m not a Jaybird… I’m not Superman… I’m just human...”

Jude’s voice was shaky with emotion; sincere and pained to the core... but Clare couldn’t stop the chuckle that fell out of his mouth. Jude was the kindest, most beautiful soul in the world, but he could be pretty dumb sometimes. The humorous sound made Jude’s eyebrows snap together in confusion.

“Just human?” Clare replied, taking the angel’s handsome face in his hands, “You’re Jude freaking Winchester. The sound of your name makes the bad guys run away in terror. You won’t have to smite anybody ever again. And for the record, you still heal me every single day. You’re a hot spring of holy water, Jude. My own personal oasis,” Clare smiled, stroking Jude’s soft cheek, “It doesn’t really matter if you can fly or not, Jay. You’re still my Superman. You will _always_ be my Superman.”

A drop of hot liquid oozed out from the corner of Jude’s eye and slid down his cheek, creating a wet streak over the back of Clare’s thumb. The poor guy seemed touched by what Clare said, probably thinking that Clare made it extra flowery on purpose. But he didn’t. Clare was just speaking the truth. It didn’t matter if Jude was an angel, a human, or even a demon like him, Clare loved Jude for _who_ he was, not _what_ he was. The only thing that really mattered was that Clare was still able to hold him and tell him that… Jude reached up to hold onto Clare’s wrists as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“I love you, Clare,” Jude whimpered.

Clare leaned down to press their parted lips together, enjoying the sweet taste of Jude’s mouth before replying.

“I love you too, Jay,” the demon hummed, “Mother of my babies.”

The reference to Oliver’s awkward intrusion got a laugh out of Jude, which made Clare feel smug. He always felt good to able to make Jude laugh. The two of them glanced toward the bed, where their newborn babies were snuggled peacefully together. They were so very small, like miniature dolls fixed in a pose. Clarence was proud to have played even a small part of their creation.

“Should we show Jane, now?” Jude whispered.

“Yeah,” Clare agreed, “I’ll get her.”

Clare paused to kiss Jude’s mouth again – and again, and one more time – before letting him go and reaching over to open the bedroom door. Jane was playing with Charlie on the couch in the living room, bouncing and cooing to the baby like a true grandma. Clare and Oliver met eyes across the distance and the ginger kid nodded to show that he understood the signal. After Oliver whispered something to Jane, the Hispanic lady gasped loudly and looked toward the bedroom with huge eyes. She quickly kissed Charlie’s face and handed her to Jessica before jumping up to rush to Jude and Clare’s room.

“Is it true?! Did the magic work?! You have a baby?!” she asked excitedly.

Clare nodded and opened the door wide, letting her see the sleeping twins on the bed. Jude stood proudly by them, wearing a soft smile and moist eyes. Jane gasped again upon seeing them, quickly walking inside with her mouth covered.

“ _Dos!_ ” she shrieked, “ _Dos bebes!_ You have _two_!” 

Jude nodded, beaming from ear to ear.

“They’re twins,” he explained, pointing to each of them, “This is Gibson Jay, and that’s Grace Clare.”

“Ohhhh! Such sweet names! Oh! They are beautiful, Jude!” Jane sang.

Unfortunately, her voice was loud enough to stir the babies awake. Gibson squirmed around and made some ‘eh’ sounds, which made Grace blink her eyes open. Jane saw them move and covered her mouth again, taking a step back.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake them,” she whispered urgently.

“It’s alright. It’s almost time for them to eat again anyway,” Jude assured, “Would you like to hold one?”

Jane lit up like the Fourth of July.

“Si, si!” she nodded, holding her arms out.

Still wearing a bright smirk, Jude carefully opened the blanket to retrieve Gibson and hand him off to Jane. The lady instantly began to coo and gently sway with the baby, calming his fussiness with her soft voice. In the meantime, Clare walked around to pick up Grace, because she was starting to cry a little now that her warm brother was gone. Clare was still a little nervous to hold her – especially after learning about the chaotic way she came into the world. The demon knew he would have to take extra special care of her and never let anything hurt her.

“Shh, Daddy’s got you,” he promised, kissing her tiny forehead.

Grace quieted down just in time for Clare to see the figure in the doorway. Crowley, probably having heard the babies crying, had come to inspect the room. There was a touch of worry in his brown eyes until he saw Clarence looking at him, then he snapped back into his usual pompous self, straightening his suit jacket and raising his head a little higher.

“I assume everything is alright in here?” the demon king asked.

“Yep. Jane’s meeting the kids,” Clare explained, walking closer to tilt Grace toward him, “You wanna hold her?”

There was a brief and faint flicker of excitement that came across Crowley’s face, but it was immediately snuffed out.

“I’ve never held an infant in my life, boy. You don’t want that fragile child in my arms,” he declared.

Clare rolled his eyes. God, Crowley could be so difficult. Instead of asking again, Clare simply stepped close to gently dump Grace into the demon king’s arms. Despite having never held a child before, Crowley instantly cradled her to his own chest like a professional. Grace squirmed and whimpered a little, but soon relaxed in his grasp. Then, pure awe began to emit from Crowley’s expression. The only time Clare ever saw such a soft look on Crowley’s face was when the demon was watching Bobby work from a distance. Crowley’s dark eyes soaked in the sight of Clare’s daughter in his arms, staring at her like she was made of diamonds.

“Hello, my sweet,” he purred in his fancy accent, “I’m your grandfather. And from this day forth, you shall have anything your heart desires. I’ll see to it myself.”

Clare grinned as he watched their interaction. It was unbelievably good to know that his children had such a loving family. If someone had come up to him when he was a teenager and told him that he would have this giant, loving family, complete with a handsome husband and two perfect twins, he would have laughed in their face. And then punched them for lying. He never would have believed that any of this could be real. But it _was_. Clare was standing in the middle of his own dream come true…

As Jane and Crowley swooned over the twins, Clare looked over to meet eyes with his husband across the room. Jude was oddly content, standing with his shoulders back and arms loosely crossed. His ocean blue eyes held happiness and peace as they looked to each other. Knowing that Jude was happy – and alive – was all Clare ever wanted.

* * *

Dean drummed his fingers against the table near his cold coffee mug, glancing from the window to the crooked clock hanging beside Jude’s fridge. It was seven o’clock at night now, which meant that the angels had been gone for over eight hours. Dean knew that it might take awhile to get the bunker back in order, but eight hours? Angel grace worked a lot faster than that, didn’t it?

“Relax, Dean. They’re fine.”

Dean looked to his brother, who was sitting across the table. Sammy had that ‘all knowing’ look on his face, like he had every ounce of confidence that the angels were okay and doing a great job.

“My kid just gave birth. You fought the devil. Gabe got his lights knocked out. Now, I haven’t seen my husband for eight hours. I think that gives me the right to be a little worried, Sam,” Dean replied.

Sam chuckled and took a sip from his own coffee mug – one of Jude’s, that had a picture of Thor on the side. Dean’s eyes traveled to the mug in front of him, seeing the Batman logo. Cas’s mug, the one boasting Superman’s ‘S’, sat before the vacant seat next to Dean, untouched and still full of coffee from that morning. Staring at it made Dean feel equal parts anxious and glad. Cas was off trying to fix the bunker, but his spot next to Dean was still reserved. Dean’s side would always be reserved for Cas…

“You reckon they’ll be able to fix it up?” Bobby asked nearby.

The old man’s mug had Professor X from the X-Men, which Dean found fitting. Jude always was good at being able to sense peoples’ superhero aliases…

“Two archangels and a seraph? Yeah, I think so,” Sam answered Bobby’s question.

“Hey. Watch your mouth when you’re talking about my seraph. He can still smite your ass,” Dean warned playfully.

While the guys joked, a large gust of wind swept through Jude’s kitchen, flapping the loose coffee filters on the counter and waving the curtains hanging over the windows. Michael, Gabriel, and Cas all showed up at once, standing with each other near the front door. Dean instantly stood up from his chair to face the angels, searching for any sign of confirmation on their faces. He was desperate to know if their home would be saved from destruction.

Luckily, the answer came from the hint of a smile playing at the edges of Cas’s mouth. The handsome angel strode forward and held up his hand without a word, revealing Dean’s car keys dangling between his fingers. Dean’s eyes flashed from the Impala keys back to Cas as excitement bubbled in his chest.

“Would you like to go home, Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean chuckled and reached up to take the keys.

“Hell yes,” he grinned, turning to glance at everyone else in the area, “Everybody get your shit. We’re going home.”

On the couch, Jessica exhaled with relief, seeming overjoyed to hear the news. She instantly started to gather some of Charlie’s things, while Oliver picked up Charlie herself. Adam, with Katherine in his arms, got up to speak to Michael at the door, while Gabe flashed over to crush Sammy in a hug. Bobby silently and politely straightened up Jude’s kitchen while the family snapped into action. Jude, Clare, Jane, and Crowley came out of the bedroom with the newborn twins in hand to see what was going on. When Dean met eyes with his son, he gave the kid a hopeful look.

“Bunker’s ready,” Dean explained, showing his car keys, “I’m driving. You guys want to ride with us?”

Jude and Clare discussed somethings in whispers before eventually deciding to come along. Dean was grateful because he really wanted to keep Jude close for a few days, just to make sure he was going to be alright after having the babies. Although they didn’t have car seats for the twins, Jude and Clare chose to hold them in the backseat. Dean drove as carefully as he could back to the bunker, going slow around curves and driving around potholes. The ride only took about five minutes, but it was some of the best five minutes of Dean’s life. Glancing up at the rearview mirror to see his son holding a newborn was mindboggling. It wasn’t so long ago that Dean was able to look in that same mirror and see Jude as a toddler, buckled into his car seat, kicking his little legs, and singing along with ACDC… Damn. Time went by too fast…

What Dean last saw as a crater was now looked completely filled in. The hill that resided over the bunker was a mound of fresh dirt, perfectly plowed and appeared to be sown with grass seeds. Dean circled around the front to get to the garage entrance, which looked like it had never been demolished. The heavy metal door raised up as usual, revealing that the garage was just the way Dean left it. He pulled the Impala into its usual spot, looking around at the tiled walls and tool cabinets. There wasn’t any evidence of damage. 

“Uh… Didn’t this place crumble into the ground? How does it look so perfect?” Clare asked from the backseat.

“Celestial grace is capable of more than just healing the physical, Clarence,” Cas answered, opening the passenger side door, “Come. I’ll show you the rest.”

Once out, Cas instantly stepped back to open Jude’s door for him. Dean did the same for Clare so that the boys could get out of the car with the babies in their arms. Dean eyed his tiny grandson as Clare walked passed him, once again reminded of Jude at that age.

“The most difficult part of excavating the bunker was clearing the debris,” Cas explained as he led the way out of the garage and down the hallway, “Restoring the structure itself was reasonably easy, as was finding all of our valuables.”

The term ‘valuables’ instantly made Dean think of the naughty drawer that he and Cas had in their bedroom that was full of intimate toys and costumes.

“Uhh, did – did you clean our room, or – ?” the man asked.

“Yes, I did,” Cas assured with a private wink.

Dean exhaled with relief, thankful that his brothers-in-law still had no idea how kinky he and Cas were…

The first stop Cas made was Jude’s bedroom. Jessica and Oliver had already reclaimed Jess’s room, and were inside taking inventory of Charlie’s stuff and looking through the closet. Across the hall, Jude’s old bedroom looked exactly the same as he had it. The twin-sized bed was made with Superman sheets, the Batman nightlight was glowing softly from the corner, and sitting patiently in the middle of the bed were Jude’s stuffed bumble bee and his two otters. The sight of the familiar toy gave Dean a small chill. It was nice to see the physical representation of Jude’s childhood intact.

“Bumble Bee!” Jude said excitedly, walking over to grab the stuffed animal with his free hand, “He made it!”

“Yes,” Cas agreed with a smile, “Your Bee was the first thing I recovered, son.”

A tender look came over Jude’s face and he walked back over to wrap Cas in a half hug.

“I love you, Pop. And I can’t thank you enough,” Jude muttered.

“I love you as well, Jude,” Cas replied.

“Jay, we can give the otters to the twins, now,” Clare called from the bed.

Cas backed up to stand next to Dean as they watched the boys interact with the newborns in their arms. The dim glow of the nightlight silhouetted the little family so perfectly. Dean tried to quickly memorize the sweet sight, wanting to keep the image in his mind forever. Jude, Clare, Gibson, and Grace all bonding in Jude’s first bedroom together. It was more than Dean ever thought he would have… Cas’s hand smoothly took hold of Dean’s and began to tug him backward.

“Your father and I will give you all some time alone, Jude. We will be in the kitchen if you need us,” Cas hummed.

Jude nodded to show that he heard the comment before looking back to the child in his arms. Dean glanced between his son’s room and Jessica’s, making sure everybody was okay as he followed Cas. Dean was still amazed that all the brick, stone, and tile was all perfectly placed like it had been before. It was honestly hard to believe that the bunker had even been damaged, let alone demolished.

“Damn, babe. You guys did a great job,” Dean mentioned as they walked.

“Every corner of this place is committed to my memory, Dean. It wasn’t difficult to replicate,” Cas murmured.

Dean smiled at his husband’s face. The thought of Cas having a permanent blueprint of the bunker in his mind was comforting and sweet…

When they made it to the kitchen, Cas swiftly let go of Dean’s hand to gesture to the wide space. The table, chairs, sink, stove, fridge, cabinets, and counters were all back to their original states. Dean’s favorite place in the world was exactly the way he left it; homey and warm, just like he remembered.

“We will have to visit the store to restock the refrigerator. I’m afraid the food had gone bad when we arrived to clean up,” Cas explained, briefly pulling the fridge door open to display the empty shelves, “And unfortunately, the liquor cabinet was destroyed and we lost all the alcohol. Though, Gabriel mentioned that he knew a place in Italy where he could get more.”

“Of course he did,” Dean smirked.

The man strolled up to rest his hand on the metal island – the same surface where he and Cas had more than a few intimate moments – and took the time to really drink in the sight of their kitchen. When he saw the bunker collapse a few nights before, part of him actually believed that he would never get to stand there again. He worried that he might never be able to enjoy a meal with his family, or have a late-night snack with his son, or kiss his husband good morning in his beloved kitchen again. Yet, by some miracle, there he was; standing in the very place he thought he had lost…

“We’re home,” Dean said.

Strangely, Cas didn’t smile back. The angel held up a finger before turning to dig around in a nearby cabinet. Dean watched him, wondering what the guy was searching for. After a few seconds, Cas pulled out a sizable jar of raw honeycomb honey – the same that Dean had given him long, long ago. It was still unopened; perfectly sealed and still as golden as sunshine. No matter what it had gone through – moving, hunting, an ever-growing family, years of hardship, struggles, even facing death itself – the jar never broke. It retained its perfect glass structure, holding onto every last drop of sweetness and refusing to let it go. The honey jar had endured it all. Just like Dean and Cas’s love… Cas finally smiled as he stepped back to place the jar in the middle of the metal island, planting it like a claiming flag.

“We’re home,” Cas finally agreed.

The more Dean eyes bounced between Cas and the honey jar, the more they started to tear up. Dean never really saw himself as an emotional type of guy, but _damn_. Every time Cas pulled out that jar of honey, he was knocked over by a giant wave of nostalgia. He remembered that evening like it happened the day before; taking Cas on their first date, giving him that jar, showing him the gorgeous view, seeing those giant wings, making love to him… Everything good and holy in Dean’s life came from Cas. Without him, Dean wouldn’t have anything…

Without saying another word, Dean walked around the metal island and took Cas into his arms, pulling the angel against his body to bring their lips together. One hand held Cas’s hip while the other tangled in the angel’s black hair, holding him tight so that he could kiss him deeply. The angel kissed back, humming inside their embrace as he wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and shoulders. Dean pulled back a little after a second so that they could share the same hot breath.

“Cas… Baby… I don’t… I don’t have the words…” Dean stuttered, shaking his head in frustration.

“Words aren’t necessary, Dean,” Cas replied in a whisper as his fingers ran up the back of Dean’s head, “I know how you feel.”

Dean smiled, searching Cas’s pretty face in close proximity. Of course Cas knew how he felt. Cas knew him better than anyone else on the planet.

Dean might have been standing in the bunker again, but his home was in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, the bunker’s back! And it only took three angels eight hours of work. Lol XD Some of you might remember that when Jude was a baby/toddler, he used to suck on his fingers instead of a pacifier. Well, now his babies do it too. (Hereditary trait) ;D I figured that Clare would find out about Jude’s sort-of death eventually, so might as well tell him. ;) And while Jude is mostly human, he still has a teeny-tiny bit of grace left. He’s like 90% human, 10% angel. (and 100% Superman) ;D I wouldn’t be surprised if Cas made a deal with Crowley to keep that honey jar safe. XD No matter what any of them go through, it still holds strong. ;D Guy, I really hope you are enjoying these last few chapters. Only two more remain, and I hope that I’m able to do them justice. ;D Thank you so very much for reading and commenting each week! I dreading the end of this story just as much as you are, because I will miss hearing from you all. I love you so much! :( The next-to-last chapter will be out soon! :)


	17. Chapter 17

Though his back was aching something fierce and his knees creaked like old door hinges, Bobby proudly carried his dog’s headstone from the garage all the way out to the edge of the back porch. It had always been Humphrey’s favorite place to lay in the heat of the sun, so Bobby knew it was where the little fella’s final resting place should be. The old man gently sat the makeshift headstone down at the top of the fresh dirt pile, angling the thing just right so that the hand-chiseled letters could be read at a distance.

_Here Lies_

_Humphrey_

_A Good Boy_

Once it was down, Bobby brushed off the top and slowly stood back up to stare at it all together. It took him two days to get the grooves perfect in the stone, but it was well worth the effort. Little Humphrey might have been gone, but he surely wasn’t forgotten. With a deep exhale, Bobby looked to the dogs on each of his sides, Pete on the right and Willy on the left.

“What do ya think?” he asked.

Pete chuffed quietly, which sounded like a good response. Willy seemed more interested in sniffing the ground than answering, though. Over all, the pups must have been alright with their brother’s grave. They seemed respectfully silent around it. Bobby’s gray eyes traveled from his dogs back to the marker and he felt the urge to tear up again. Aw, hell. This was exactly why he never wanted dogs in the first place. It was too hard to say goodbye… Though it pained him, Bobby reached out to pat the cold stone.

“Yer a good boy,” he praised under his breath.

Then, Bobby started to hobble up the porch steps to get to the kitchen. He passed by a couple of large sticks along the way, which made him remember playing fetch with the dogs. Every time Bobby tossed some sticks for them to fetch, Pete and Willy always brought them back – but Humphrey, for whatever reason, always dug a wrench out of the garage. The poor little guy had been a few fries short of a happy meal, but Bobby never judged him on it. A wrench was better than nothing, he supposed. Damn. Bobby was really gonna miss that…

Inside the kitchen, Pete and Willy raced over to their food bowls and sat down patiently, thumping their tails against the floor in excitement. Bracing a hand against his lower back, Bobby carefully reached into the fridge to get the raw meat out from inside and toss it into their bowls. As usual, they waited for Bobby’s signal to start eating.

“Go ahead,” the old man allowed.

While the dogs ate their dinner, Bobby shuffled over to plop himself at his kitchen table. The urge to cry was still pressing at the back of his eyeballs, especially when he looked over to see Humphrey’s empty bowl near the door. Luckily, the sound of some familiar, prancing footsteps was able to keep the tears at bay. Crowley, looking as suave as ever, strolled in from the hallway with both hands in his suit pockets. The old demon had been in the basement with his momma, doing Chuck-only-knew what. Rowena was probably still down there, which explained the frustrated look on Crowley’s face.

“Robert, I do believe Mother has officially gone overboard,” he sighed.

Bobby scoffed.

“You mean she ain’t gone overboard already?” he asked, “There’s lacy pink curtains in our bathroom.”

“I meant with Clarence and Jude’s children,” the demon corrected, walking over to sit himself at the table diagonally from Bobby, “She’s downstairs sewing infant clothes together. _Sewing_ them. With _enchanted_ thread. You’d think our grandchildren were royalty or something… Which, technically, they are,” he allowed with a head tilt, “But still. The children will outgrow those clothes faster than she can make them.”

Bobby smiled and nodded, though his eyes flicked to his own dirty hands on the table. A few new calluses had come up on his palms from all the recent chiseling he had done, but he didn’t mind them. It was the least he could do for his poor dog… Crowley reached over to gently clasp Bobby’s hand with his own soft fingers.

“How are you feeling, my love?” the demon purred, his voice sounding like silk.

“I’ll be alright,” Bobby answered weakly.

“I’ve done some dabbling in necromancy, you know. I could always try –”

“No,” Bobby interrupted, shaking his head for good measure, “Thanks, darlin’, but… I think it’d be better to let the poor dog rest. He’s earned it.”

Crowley exhaled and nodded to show his agreement while his grip on Bobby’s hand tightened. The two of them sat like that for a while; holding hands in the silent kitchen while their dogs ate quietly nearby. Though he would never admit it to anyone else, Bobby actually enjoyed holding Crowley’s hand. The demon’s hands were soft, gentle, and a bit feminine, because of their small size and manicured look. Crowley might have talked and walked like a big bad wolf, but he was a delicate puppy on the inside.

“Robert.”

Bobby looked from their joined hands up to Crowley’s face, seeing that the guy had turned serious. His brown eyes were surprisingly tender all of the sudden, like he was thinking of something sweet.

“What?” Bobby asked gruffly.

“I have something to show you,” Crowley explained.

Bobby sighed and rolled his eyes.

“If this is another one of your fancy ways of askin’ me to join you in the shower, it ain’t happenin’,” the old man bluntly denied, “We nearly broke the sliding glass door last time –”

“ _No_ ,” Crowley groaned, pausing to shake his head, “As much as I would love to get you into a hot bath and scrub you clean, this is much more important.”

“Alright,” Bobby said, though his eyes held skepticism, “What is it?”

Crowley spread his fingers to hold more of Bobby’s hand.

“Do you remember the potion that Mother and I made for Clarence last week?” he asked.

“Yeah. It turned him human so that he and Jude could try for a baby. And it didn’t work. It made the poor kid sick,” Bobby recalled.

“Yes, well,” Crowley huffed, “for the past few evenings, Mother and I have been tweaking the recipe. We’ve stabilized the mixture and made it more potent. And everlasting.”

Crowley paused to bring his other hand up, revealing a metal flask in his hand. Bobby watched him place the flask on the table, feeling completely lost.

“You made a new potion? But, Clare and Jude already have kids. They don’t need it,” Bobby reminded.

Crowley’s brown eyes looked deep into Bobby’s.

“It’s not for Clarence,” he said quietly, “It’s… for me.”

Bobby blinked at his crazy husband, unable to fully comprehend where the guy was going with this.

“For you?” he prompted.

“Robert, as stubborn, heroic, and legendary as you may be, you are still human. And humans have expiration dates,” Crowley grumbled, his harsh voice hiding the pain inside, “One day, hopefully far in the future, you will pass on from this cruel world and find your rest. Just like our dear Humphrey.”

“… Yeah,” Bobby muttered.

“Well, when that dreaded day comes, I will take this potion,” Crowley explained, tapping the lid of the flask with his index finger, “and I will follow right along at your side into that great unknown. If you are meant to die, I shall die with you. No hesitation. No regrets.”

Bobby’s mouth was open, but no words came out. He was speechless. What could he possibly say to that?! Crowley was the King of Hell; a demonic entity that could potentially live forever. Yet, he was willing to throw it all away?! Just for Bobby?! Was he out of his damn mind?! The tears that Bobby had been trying so hard to hold back finally burst free, leaking from his face like water from a faucet.

“… But,” the old man said, “Yer – yer throne –”

“Mother has been dying to get her tiny arse into that seat. I’m sure she’ll do a fair job as Queen when we’re gone,” Crowley assured.

“But, you… Ya can’t just give up yer life for me, Crowley,” Bobby tried to point out.

“Robert, my love, you _are_ my life,” Crowley replied, “You are a wise, brave, selfless, loving, irresistible man, with whom I was lucky enough to spend a lifetime with. It’s only fitting that we spend eternity together as well.”

Bobby honestly didn’t know what to say. He knew Crowley loved him, but enough to become human and die so that their souls could be together?! That was insane! That was so meaningful and honest! That was… That was true love…

Without a word, Bobby leaned across the edge of the table to kiss the demon on the mouth. It was one of the most tender kisses that they had ever shared; packed with raw emotion and gratitude. It was the only way Bobby could really show how he felt about it all. He rested his forehead against Crowley’s afterward, letting the tears run down into his bushy beard.

“You sly, ornery, romantic son of a bitch,” Bobby sniffled, rubbing his thumb across Crowley’s smooth cheek, “If your momma wasn’t here right now, I’d take you upstairs.”

“Oh, by all means, take me upstairs anyway,” Crowely cooed, “You still owe me a proper romp in the shower.”

As the two of them giggled together like little schoolgirls, a few loud thumps came from the basement.

“ _Fergus!_ ” Rowena called from downstairs, “ _This damn spinning wheel is stuck again! Come and fix it before I set it ablaze!_ ”

Crowley groaned, rolling his eyes like an annoyed teenager.

“That blasted woman always has the worst timing,” he grumbled, shifting around to stand up, “Shall I meet you upstairs at bedtime, darling?”

“Yeah,” Bobby nodded, quickly wiping the wetness from his face.

Crowley pecked a kiss to the back of Bobby’s rough hand before letting go to pick up the flask from the table. He placed it back in his pocket with a wink as he breezed through the kitchen, heading for the basement to help his mother. His exit left Bobby sitting at the table in awe. Someday down the line, when the world was finally done with him, Bobby could slip blissfully into his last sleep without fear. Because his husband would be there to go with him to the other side.

While Bobby looked down to watch the dogs eat, a forceful ‘ _clank_ ’ came from the backdoor. Figuring that Clarence or one of the Winchester boys had come to visit, Bobby got up from the table and wobbled over to the backdoor to open it and look around.

There, laying on the porch like a present, was a wrench from Bobby’s garage.

* * *

When Jessica held up her own stuffed bunny and Oliver’s plush unicorn for their daughter to choose, Charlie picked the unicorn. As usual. The baby girl snatched the rainbow horse with a big smile and hugged it, nestling her little face into the unicorn like it was a pillow. The bunny was left squatting sadly in Jess’s hand.

“You really are Daddy’s girl, huh?” Jess mumbled to the baby.

Charlie only cooed and snuggled the plushie. Jess turned to place her old bunny back on the bed – secretly kissing him on the forehead along the way to let him know that he was still loved – before returning to the crib to scoop Charlie up, unicorn and all.

“Listen, Charlie. Daddy and I have something… important to do today. So I’m gonna need you to stay with your grandpas,” Jess explained as she walked out of the bedroom and down the bunker hall, “Try not to be a handful, okay? Grandpa Gabe can keep up with you, but Grandpa Moose gets worn out fast. Just be a good girl for them. Don’t give them any attitude.”

“Moo-moo-moo-moo,” Charlie mumbled.

“That’s right. Ga-Ga and Moo-Moo,” Jess repeated, “If you’re good, I’ll bring you back a treat. How about some ice cream?”

The words ‘ice cream’ caused Charlie to get all excited. Her arms and legs flailed, and she nearly dropped Ollie’s unicorn. The look of pure joy on her daughter’s face made Jess laugh. Grandpa Gabe had definitely rubbed off on his granddaughter.

In the bunker garage, Dad, Papa, and Oliver were standing and chatting around Ollie’s red truck. Charlie’s shrill voice alerted them to Jess and the baby’s entrance, and all the men smiled toward them. Papa dashed over with both arms open wide.

“My baby girls!” he sang, gently scooping Charlie from Jess’s arm as he leaned over to kiss Jess’s forehead, “You both look so beautiful today! Especially you, kiddo. Is that designer drool on that chin of yours? ‘Cause you’re rocking it!”

High pitched giggles came from Charlie’s grinning mouth at the sound of Papa’s excited voice. She probably had no idea what Pop was saying, but the tone he used made her happy.

Jess’s eyes traveled from her smiling daughter up to the truck, where she met eyes with Oliver – and remembered what they were about to do. A thick build up of homesickness and dread slowly started to overtake Jess’s happiness. Today, she and Oliver were going to walk into their own home for the first time…

“Don’t worry about a thing, baby bunny,” Papa assured, “Your old man and I will –”

“Wait, why am _I_ the old man? You’re older than the Earth itself, Gabe,” Dad grumbled playfully.

“Easy. I’m not a man. I’m a Queen. There’s a big difference,” Papa replied with a wink.

Dad rolled his eyes but lovingly rested a large hand on Papa’s shoulder.

“Charlie’s in good hands, Jess. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he promised.

Jess exhaled with a nod. She knew that Charlie would be safe with her parents. That wasn’t what she was worried about… Though there was a tug in her gut, Jess reached up to hug both of her parents and daughter all at once. They hugged her back, circling her with affection and warmth, before she pulled away to head to Oliver’s truck.

“I love you guys,” she called.

“Bye, Charlie,” Ollie added with a wave, “Mommy and Daddy will be back in a few hours!”

Charlie was too concerned with the unicorn in her hands to really notice that her parents were leaving. Dad and Papa stood politely in the garage until Jess and Ollie got in the truck and started to back out. The radio, which Oliver recently had installed, was playing some catchy pop song as they started down the road into Lebanon. Despite the up-tempo tune and sunny weather, it still felt like Jess had her own gray cloud hanging overhead. And Ollie seemed to notice it, too.

“You’re still not happy about the house thing, are you?” he assumed out loud.

“I’m fine,” Jess denied.

“Jess, if you really don’t want to move –”

“It’s not that, Oliver. You’re right. We need our own space,” Jessica interrupted, fiddling with her fingers in her lap, “I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

She was being honest. There was no point in lying to Oliver. He would be able to see right through her, anyway.

“Well, you shouldn’t be nervous. If anyone needs to be nervous, it’s me. I don’t even know where I’m going,” Ollie chuckled.

Jess glanced up to see where they were.

“Turn left at the next light,” she instructed under her breath, “Then another left. Then go straight until you see the house with the big oak tree in the yard… That’s ours.”

Momentary silence took over the cab of the truck. Jess timidly glanced over to see that Oliver was staring at her with his mouth hanging open. When the truck rolled to a stop at the red light, Oliver scratched his head.

“You… know exactly where it is,” he pointed out.

Jess bobbed her head. Yep. She had known exactly where their house was since before they were married. She expected Oliver to get mad over her not sharing the knowledge with him sooner. After all, he had wanted to move out of the bunker for quite some time. Yet, when he heard the directions, Oliver seemed more impressed than anything.

“You were right, it’s not that far from the bunker,” he smiled a little, roping the steering wheel onto the next road, “And it’s even closer to Jude and Clare’s place. When Charlie gets older, she can walk to their house to play with the twins. Hey, they can all trick-or-treat together, too! I used to hit up these houses myself when I was little. Dude, this is gonna be so awesome!”

The genuine enthusiasm in Oliver’s deep voice made Jessie’s personal rain cloud disperse. She never thought about trick-or-treating before. In fact, she never took any holidays into consideration when thinking about her new home…

As she usually saw it in her visions of the future, the house that Jessica and Oliver would raise their children in was a quaint cottage-like structure on the edge of town. It had a long drive way that led to a garage, curving around a scenic front yard and sturdy porch. Most of the lawn decorations Jess remembered from her dreams were missing; not yet placed by her and Oliver. But the big oak tree was still as thick and memorable as ever. A real estate sign was planted at the edge of the lawn near the road, saying that today was an open house. Luckily, no one else was there. Besides the realtor, Jess and Oliver were the only people on the lot. 

“No way,” Oliver breathed, gently pulling his truck over to a complete stop, “This… _This_ is it?!”

Jess nodded as she unbuckled her seatbelt, which made her husband giggle like a child.

“Its huge!” Ollie exclaimed, gesturing to the grandness of the house in front of them, “I mean, probably not as big as the bunker, but still! There’s a big lawn! And a backyard! And neighbors!”

Oliver excitedly waved toward the strangers nearby, who were mowing their own lawn. They offered him a wave even though they seemed confused. Jess could feel Ollie’s giddiness starting to rub off on her. The dread she had started the day with was slowly morphing into eagerness.

When the couple stepped out of their truck, a nicely dressed woman came out of the house to greet them. She was holding a clipboard and wearing unreasonably high heels, so Jess assumed the lady was the realtor. Oliver and Jess circled an arm around each other as they walked up to the stranger.

“Hello, there! I’m Bethany Miller, Lebanon Realty Services. Have you come to look at the house?” she sang, holding her hand out.

“Yes, ma’am,” Oliver answered, politely shaking the lady’s hand, “My wife and I are looking forward to finally going inside.”

“Excellent! Follow me, I’ll tell you all about it,” Bethany offered.

The nice realtor immediately led them through the front door – the same Jessica had seen many times. Stepping inside was easier than she thought it would be. While Bethany began a long rant about the house’s history, layout, and convenient location, Jessica was preoccupied with the sight of the living room.

In her dreams, the walls were always a soft yellow color, but now they were dingy white. Maybe she and Oliver were going to repaint them. The living room was staged with fancy furniture, but it was all out of place. The TV was on the wrong wall, the chairs were in weird places, and the coffee table didn’t belong there.

But the couch? The couch was perfect. In fact, the sight of it gave Jess a strange case of déjà vu. She had witnessed that very couch somewhere before. In a dream, from her childhood. It was before she ever met Oliver, back when her family was still living out of motels. She must have only been three or four-years-old at the time. The dream was full of faces she didn’t know; A man, two teenagers and two kids. The five of them, all different ages, were crowded around Jessica on that couch, cuddled up and laughing together like they were about to watch a movie. Jess woke up thinking she had a pleasant dream about strangers. But now, as she blinked toward the same couch from her vision, Jessica realized – It was her own family all along. The man was Oliver. Their daughter, Charlie – still only a baby at the present time – had been the oldest teenager. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was a dead give away. And the other three young people were children that Jessica and Oliver hadn’t created yet. Their son, and second daughter, and second son…

The epiphany made Jessica freeze in place. She had been fearing this day for nothing. Grandpa Chuck comforted her with a vision of her happy future long before she even needed it…

“Is everything okay?”

Jessica heard the lady’s voice ask the question but couldn’t answer. She could feel moisture threatening to cloud her eyes and was too afraid to make eye contact with the stranger in her house. Thankfully, Oliver was kind enough to cover for her.

“Yeah, she’s alright. It’s just been a long morning for us,” he mentioned kindly, “Could you give us a second?”

“Of course,” Bethany nodded politely and headed toward the front door with her clipboard, “I’ll be just outside if you have any questions.”

Jessica listened to the loud ‘click-clack’ of the lady’s heels as she walked across the floor and out onto the porch. Jessica took a deep breath after her departure, feeling more at ease now that it was just her and Oliver.

“Jess, are you really okay?” Ollie asked, “We can just come back another day if this is too much.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m really great,” Jess sniffled, letting out a breathless chuckle as she wiped her eyes, “This is our house.”

Oliver blinked, glancing between the living room and Jess’s face with confusion.

“… Yeah,” he carefully agreed, “but why are you crying? And laughing? I thought you were worried about coming here.”

“I was,” Jess allowed, shrugging her shoulders, “but I just realized that we’re gonna raise our babies here.”

A soft look slowly drifted across Oliver’s face, making him look so handsome and sweet. Jess took his hand before pointing to the couch. Her voice was shaking with so much emotion that she could barely talk.

“We’re all gonna pile onto that couch together,” she whimpered, grinning and crying at the same time, “Me, you, and our babies… We’re gonna watch movies, and play board games, and invite our parents over to play,” she sniffled, glancing toward the kitchen, “We’re gonna have water balloon fights, dance to our favorite songs while we cook and do the dishes together,” she paused again to look down the hall, where a few bedroom doors were standing open, “We’re gonna tuck our babies into bed every night, and kiss them awake every morning.”

Jess turned to look up at Oliver afterward, whose brown eyes were filling with tears also. To comfort him, Jess took his face in both of her hands, unable to stop the giggles from toppling out of her mouth as they smiled at each other.

“Ollie… This is _our_ bunker,” she whispered.

Oliver laughed a little too before circling his arms around Jess’s torso to pick her up in a gigantic hug. He twirled her around in their living room as she clung to his shoulders, both of them filling the house with laughter. Jess had never felt so completely happy before. It was like her wedding day all over again; like getting to hold Charlie for the first time. She always saw this house as her enemy, but it was destined to be her best friend since day one.

A knock came from the front door, stopping Ollie’s spin as he carefully sat Jess back down on her feet. Bethany, the realtor, was standing in the doorway, smiling at the couple as she held her clipboard to her chest.

“I take it you’ve made a decision?” she beamed.

“Yes,” Jessica answered, “We want this house. It’s ours.”

“And the couch, too,” Ollie added.

“Wonderful!” Bethany sang, “I’ll make a few calls, set up an appointment, and we’ll get the paperwork started.”

“Thank you!” Oliver called.

When the lady walked back out, Jessica stole a quick kiss with her husband. Ollie sank in and hummed, cradling Jess’s back as they held each other close. It was the first kiss they had ever shared in their home.

But it surely wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

It had been over two decades since Dean last cradled a blue-eyed newborn in his arms. Gibson – who had a pretty kick-ass name, if Dean was being honest – was a spitting image of Jude. His incredibly thin hair was slightly lighter, probably mixed with Clare’s blonde. But Gibson’s adorable little face was nearly identical to Jude’s. Even though Dean was physically holding his own grandson in his arms, Dean still couldn’t believe he was a grandfather. _A grandfather_. Son of a bitch, he was getting old…

“Aren’t they lovely, Dean?”

Dean raised his head at the sound of his husband’s sweet voice. Cas was standing near Dean with Grace in his arms, swaying peacefully with a smile as he stared down at her. He and Dean were looking after the twins in the bunker study, letting Jude and Clare get some well-earned rest. The man glanced back to the newborn sleeping against his chest, once again mesmerized by how tiny the baby was.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, “Are they supposed to be this small?”

“I read that it is normal for twins to be born prematurely, due to limited space in the womb. It’s likely what attributes to their small size,” Cas explained.

“Oh. Makes sense,” Dean mumbled.

They were quiet after that, both entranced by the sheer adorableness of their grandchildren. Dean could have sat there forever, just staring down at the little guy sleeping in his arms. But the sound of footsteps slowly made its way into the study. Dean turned around to see Clarence walking down the few steps into the library, yawning and scratching his messy blonde hair. The kid had dark circles around his eyes and was dragging his feet like he had a bad hangover. Dean knew that look. He had seen it in the mirror a few times. Clare was sporting the ‘exhausted new father’ fashion.

“Hello, Clarence. Have you come to check on your children? Is Jude still asleep?” Cas asked.

Clare yawned again and wandered up to stop near his in-laws before answering.

“Jude’s in his room. Rowena called me. She needs help with a spindle or something,” the demon said groggily, “Do you think you could fly me over to Bobby’s place?”

Dean noticed a hint of disappointment flicker across Cas’s expression. The angel probably wanted to soak up the experience of holding his grandbaby. To help him out, Dean carefully stood up from his chair and offered his free arm.

“Here, babe. I’ll take her. It’s only a quick flight,” he comforted.

Cas sighed under his breath but stepped over to gently transfer Grace into Dean’s free arm. Clare watched it happen, beaming with as much pride as his exhausted state would allow. Grace felt even more weightless than Gibson did. Dean felt like he was holding a delicate balloon in each arm. The angel backed up to place his hand on the demon’s shoulder, sharing a small look with Dean.

“I will return momentarily,” Cas assured.

“Thanks for watching the kids… Grandpa,” Clare smirked.

A brief wave of nostalgia came over Dean. ‘Grandpa’ was the first thing Clare ever called him. It was crazy to think that one day, the sarcastic nickname would hold genuine meaning…

“Be good,” Dean replied.

With smiles on both Cas and Clare’s faces, the two of them disappeared from the spot they were standing in, leaving Dean with two armfuls of precious babies. Though Gibson and Grace were still peaceful, Dean thought it would be a good idea to put them in their crib, where they would be less likely to wake up. Being as gentle as possible, Dean carefully walked out of the study, through the control room, and down the hall to get to Jude’s bedroom. Luckily, the door was partly ajar, which allowed Dean to nudge it open with his foot and slide inside.

Jude’s bedroom was, of course, dimly lit with the Batman nightlight in the corner. The yellow glow and the smell of Jude’s scent was instantly comforting, causing Dean to relax as he stepped over to the duel crib near the wall. Jude himself, who Dean thought was asleep, suddenly popped up from the bed and came over with arms open.

“Hey, Dad. Here, let me help,” he whispered, voice deep and sleepy.

Jude scooped Gibson out of Dean’s arm to lay him in the crib. The kid did it with such finesse and swiftness that Gibson never stirred at all. It actually reminded Dean of Cas doing the same thing when Jude was just a baby. Dean laid Grace down in the right crib before backing up to gaze down at them both. Two perfect infants, bundled up in matching blankets, snoozing like little angels. And both of them had come from his own son…

Dean’s sight traveled to his adult child next to him, who was equal to his own height. Now that they had a moment just to themselves, Dean thought he needed to share his thoughts and feelings… Yet, he didn’t know how. The amount of pride and admiration Dean had for his son was indescribable. No manner of words would ever be able to explain how much he loved his son; how proud he was of him for never giving up, always standing firm in the face of pain, holding his ground, and relying fully on his own beliefs. Jude wasn’t just an example of a perfect child, he set the mold. If Dean could go back in time to the day he first held Jude in a rocking chair and gave him that long speech, he would have told himself about this; about what a good man his and Cas’s son would turn out to be. Jude always thought of himself as the weakest person in the family, because he had built up fear of a lot of things. But facing those fears actually made Jude the _strongest_. Dean hoped that he could be half the man his son was…

“What’s wrong, Dad?”

Dean heard the question, but he couldn’t find his voice to answer. Instead, he raised up both arms to circle them around his son. He hugged Jude close to his own heart, cradling his head and back like he used to do when the guy was just a kid. Jude was a man now, but his scent was the same as it had always been; a warm, precious smell that dug deep into Dean’s soul and stirred up all kinds of memories. Though he seemed confused, Jude eventually hugged back. They stayed in the embrace for a few extra minutes – long enough for Dean’s eyes to cloud up with moisture – before Dean pulled away to pat Jude on the shoulder.

“I’m so damn proud of you, Jude,” he said, his voice shakier than he intended, “You’re a good man. A good husband. A good father. And the best damn son anybody could ask for. I want you to know that.”

Jude’s sapphire eyes, so much like Cas’s, started to glisten as he blinked at Dean. The man didn’t mean to make his son cry, he only wanted to share his feelings. To keep from breaking down into tears, Dean pursed his lips and patted Jude’s shoulder again.

“I love you, little man,” he huffed.

“I love you too, Dad,” Jude uttered.

“And I love you both.”

Dean and Jude both looked to the doorway, were Cas was standing silently. Neither of them knew how long the angel had been standing there, but judging by the wetness in Cas’s blue eyes, Dean figured it had been at least a few moments. With a wholesome expression, Cas walked over with open arms, wrapping Dean and Jude into a large group hug. Dean savored the moment, enjoying the mixture of Cas and Jude’s scents. It only stopped when Jude pulled back to cover a deep yawn.

“Sorry,” he muttered afterward as he rubbed his eyes, “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. It’s just, the kids kept us up all night and –”

“There’s no need to explain, son,” Cas assured, stroking the side of Jude’s face before gesturing to the bed behind them, “Please, get some rest.”

“Pop and I will go pick up some pizza for dinner,” Dean offered.

“Alright,” Jude nodded, backing toward the bed to sit down on the edge, “Thank you guys. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Jude,” Cas smiled, holding Dean’s hand as he backed out of the room, “Sleep peacefully.”

Jude smiled and gave one last wave to his parents before laying back down on the bed. Dean’s eyes stayed attached to the kid until the bedroom door was closed and he found himself out in the hallway with his husband. His eyes drifted to Cas’s perfect face next to him, feeling comfort take over immediately. It seemed like Cas was feeling the same way Dean did; proud and full of love, with just a touch of bitter sweetness. Yet, they were able to find solace in each other’s eyes.

With a long exhale, Dean reached up to drape both arms around Cas, who did the same to him. The couple started to stumble slowly down the hall of their bunker, clinging to each other. Dean’s lips found their way to the side of Cas’s soft head as they walked, where he kissed him and breathed in the sweet scent of his dark hair.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean whispered, “I’m glad I accidently knocked you up.”

Cas smiled and hummed a laugh, the sound peppering Dean’s skin with pleasant chills.

“There are no accidents, Dean,” the angel replied, “Everything has a purpose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How’s that for an ending? ;) Next week’s chapter is more of an Epilogue, so this is technically the last chapter of the Series. Naturally, I had to let the last bit be super meaningful. :) I can’t believe this is the end! *sobs like a baby* :’( (The show was supposed to end with this fic, but they chickened out. As usual. Lol! Jk.) ;D I’m sure that the opening of this chapter was difficult to read, but I wanted you all to know that Humphrey is fondly remembered; still bringing Bobby wrenches from the garage. He’s a good boy, even from the other side. ;) In hindsight, it might be a little out of character for Crowley to want to give up his throne, demon-hood, and even his life just to be with Bobby. But I figured they had been together far too long for Crowley to just let the old man die alone. (He’s a hopeless romantic, after all.) ;) Jess and Ollie finally have their bunker! Yay! :D It was an emotional journey for Jess to warm up to the house, but her future dreams helped her out once again. ;) I think Dean spoke for all of us when he told Jude how amazing he was. That kid has overcome many things, and I’m so proud of him. :’( Ugh! I can’t believe it’s the end! D’X Like I mentioned before, next week’s chapter will not only be the very last, but also more of an epilogue. Oh, and be ready, because there is probably going to be a suuuper long AN where I gush about how awesome you are. (I’m crying already!) X’( Guys, I love you more than you will ever know! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next, and final, chapter will be out soon! :)


	18. Chapter 18

Three Years Later

* * *

The movement and rustle of bedsheets stirred Jude from his deep sleep. He could feel soft, warm sunlight against his eyelids, and kept them closed to prevent burning his eyes. There was definitely someone – or two, or even three people – moving around in bed with him. They were whispering to each other in hushed voices; sweet, tiny, high-pitched voices that spoke to a deep one that Jude had memorized.

“When I say three, we’re gonna wake him up, okay?” Clarence whispered, “One… Two… Three!”

Four tiny hands and two large ones suddenly latched onto Jude’s side and began to rock him back and forth. Jude instantly opened his eyes and was temporarily blinded by the sun. After blinking a few times to steady his vision, an amazing view focused before him. Jude’s husband Clare and their twin three-year-olds were all piled on Clare’s side of the bed. Gibson, still in his green dinosaur pajamas, was nearly pouncing on Jude’s side, giggling from under his messy mop of sandy-blonde hair. Grace, in her pink and purple nightgown and wavy hair, was more delicate with her movements. She only pushed his hip a little before covering her mouth and bursting into laughter. And hovering over them both was Clarence’s perfect stubbled face, grinning down at Jude with secret delight.

“Papa, Papa! You has to wake up!” Gibson said.

“We has a surprise!” Grace added. 

“Okay! He’s awake! Let’s do it,” Clare said before crawling back to his side of the bed and picking up his guitar from nearby, “Gracie, come and hold up your picture, honey. Gib, grab yours.”

As if they had been given special instructions that Jude wasn’t aware of, the twins cradle to specific spots in front of Clarence and held up a drawing each. Jude leaned up on his elbow and rubbed his eyes so that he could figure out what was going on. It seemed like Gibson and Grace had each drawn a crayon picture for Jude’s birthday. Grace’s was colorful; full of flowers, rainbows, and even an attempt at Superman up in the corner, standing in a garden. Gibson’s drawing consisted mostly of dinosaurs, his favorite, in all shapes and size. Judging from the red and blue splotch over one of them, it looked like he attempted to draw Superman riding a T-Rex. Jude’s sight traveled from his children’s drawings up to their precious faces, where he drank in their bright blue eyes and the dusting of freckles along their tiny noses. Aww, they had drawn him pictures for his birthday… Behind the twins, Clarence situated his guitar in his lap.

“Okay, ready guys?” he asked.

Both of the twins nodded their sandy-blonde heads in agreement, to which Clare started to strum the tune to ‘happy birthday’ on his guitar. When Clare started to sing, the twins quickly joined in.

“ _Happy birthday to yooou… Happy birthday to yooou… Happy birthday, dear Papa… Happy birthday to yooou!_ ”

Jude felt the onset of tears even before the song came to an end. The sight of his husband and their children all singing together, with Gib and Grace holding up their little crayon gifts in their pjs and messy hair, absolutely took his breath away. He had no idea that they had planned to do such a sweet thing for him that morning. It was, hands down, the best birthday present he could ever ask for.

“Aww, you guys,” Jude hummed, reaching over to curl both arms around his children, “Thank you so much.”

“Look, Papa! I draw-ed you on a T-Rex! _Raaawr_!” Gibson said excitedly, holding the picture directly in Jude’s face.

“And I draw-ed you with a long cape,” Gracie said, holding hers equally high, “and you has flowers in your hair, see? Like a pretty angel!”

“I see them,” Jude said, taking both pictures from his twins, “You two did such a good job. Thank you so much.”

Jude took the time to glance between his children again, admiring their sweet faces and gleeful expressions. There was no greater feeling in the world than to know that he was loved by the children he wanted so much to have…

“Breakfast time, kids,” Clare said, patting them each on the butt as he climbed off the bed and pointed to the door, “Let’s go eat some cereal and get dressed so we can go to the bunker.”

Gibson and Grace both gasped excitedly and scurried off their parents’ bed.

“Yay! We’re gonna go to the bunker! I’m gonna bring my toys!” Gibson rejoiced.

“I wanna wear my pretty dress today, Daddy. I wanna be pretty for Papa’s birthday,” Grace said as she tugged on the leg of Clare’s pants.

“Okay, honey. We’ll get you dressed after breakfast,” Clare promised, pausing in the doorway to wink at Jude, “I’ll be back in a minute, Jay.”

When Clarence escorted the rambunctious twins out of the room, Jude was left laying in silence with two wonderfully silly crayon drawings in his hands. He studied each of them, admiring the sight of his children’s artwork. They had put so much thought and effort into them. So much love. These drawings didn’t belong on the fridge. They were going to get their own picture frames. Jude slid one on top of the other before carefully laying them on the bedside table near Clare’s guitar. What a perfect morning…

Taking his husband’s advice about getting dressed, Jude sat up and stretched before climbing out of bed to start for the dresser. Along the way, however, his own reflection in the full-length mirror near the closet made him pause. Jude’s dark hair was jutting in all directions, there were faint circles around his eyes from staying up late, and he really needed a good shave. But his eyes were still as blue as ever, and more freckles were dotted along his face than he could count.

The part of Jude’s body that truly held his attention was the long line stretched across his lower abdomen. It was the scar he got from delivering the twins a few years prior. It had healed the best it could without Jude’s grace, but left a raised pink line. Similar to the one on his own Papa’s stomach, only deeper and more noticeable. Jude exhaled as he dragged the tip of his finger across the oddly shaped scar. How many times did he witness Papa touch his own scar in the same way? How many times did Papa feel grateful for the experience, like Jude did? Probably every single time…

A bony white hand snaked under Jude’s, curving around his stomach to caress his skin and give him goosebumps. Clarence had come back into the bedroom and was now standing behind Jude, pecking Jude’s neck and shoulder with wet kisses as he held him from behind. Jude smiled at the guy’s reflection in the mirror, enjoying the pride and humor that still lingered on Clare’s face.

“Mmm,” Clare hummed, bringing his lips to Jude’s ear, “How was _that_ for a birthday surprise?”

“You nailed it,” Jude replied, leaning his back against Clare’s warm chest, “Did you practice that with them?”

“Only once. Our babies are smart, Jay. They pick up things fast… which might be dangerous in the long run,” Clare chuckled.

Jude laughed, too. It would only be a matter of time before the twins started getting into trouble. Clare pressed his lips to Jude’s bare shoulder again, leaving them there for several long seconds before raising his head to look at Jude in the mirror. Without saying a word, the demon brought his other hand forward, revealing a small gift in his palm. It was wrapped in Superman paper, with a big blue bow on top.

“What is this?” Jude grumbled, though he was wearing a smile.

Clarence grinned at him in the mirror again, holding the gift closer to Jude’s bare chest.

“Open it and see,” he urged.

Though he felt like telling his husband that he didn’t need anymore presents, Jude shook his head and took the box anyway. He slowly tore the paper away to see a Batman lamp, still in its box. It was identical to the nightlight in Jude’s bedroom at the bunker, made out of the black and yellow logo. Where did Clare find it? And how much did it cost? It was still in the box and everything!

“It’s just like the one at the bunker,” Jude blurted.

“Mmm-hmm,” Clare nodded, resting his stubbled chin on Jude’s shoulder, “Your old man helped me find it. Now, you can have a piece of the bunker here in our bedroom.”

First Clare woke Jude up with a perfect song with the kids, now he was giving him a piece of home to put in their bedroom? Holy shit, Clare was the best husband ever. Jude carefully placed the box on the dresser so that he could turn around capturing Clare’s pink lips. As they kissed, Jude felt Clare’s hands slide around to cradle his back, holding him close.

“You are amazing, Clare,” Jude pulled back to whisper against his husband’s mouth.

“No _, you’re_ amazing, Jude. You deserve it all and more,” Clare replied, “In fact, I’m gonna give you _something else_ too, but it’ll have to wait until the twins go to bed…”

Jude laughed, feeling his cheeks briefly flush with heat. No explanation needed there. He knew exactly what Clare was thinking.

“I can’t wait to get it,” Jude hummed truthfully.

The husbands shared one more powerful kiss before letting each other go to get dressed. They both chose to wear casual t-shirts and jeans, which Jude was grateful for. He still hated being the center of attention, even on his birthday.

Gibson and Grace, having finished their breakfast, eventually came back into their parent’s room carrying their own clothes. Grace took her new pink dress to Clare, wanting his help to put it on. Clare took her to the twins’ bedroom while Jude lifted Gibson up to stand him on the bed. Gib had brought Jude a pair of shorts and a striped shirt and started immediately yanking his own pjs off. He seemed to have a hard time getting it over his head, though.

“Here, little man, let me help,” Jude hummed.

He carefully removed the shirt from Gibson’s head, raking a hand through the kid’s shaggy hair afterward to smooth it out. In the meantime, Gibson stole the shirt from Jude’s hand.

“I can do it, Papa. I’m a big boy. Watch,” he said.

Gibson – the more independent of the twins – gave his best attempt to put his own shirt on. But once again, got his head stuck. It was just too big for him to properly fit through the hole. Jude smiled and reached over to discretely tug the shirt to the left, helping Gibson without the kid knowing. When he pulled his shirt down, there was a huge grin on Gibson’s face.

“See! I did it!” he exclaimed, holding both arms up.

“Yes, you did. Great job, buddy,” Jude praised.

He leaned forward to peck a kiss to his son’s head, briefly enjoying the scent of his fine hair. Gibson was more than just independent. He was outgoing. He never met a person he couldn’t be friends with. Gib was energetic. Extroverted. The kid behaved just like his father. He even loved singing and listening to the same kind of music as Clare. To top it all off, Gibson’s grace was solid black. He was the first nephilim to ever have darkened celestial power, according to Michael. And the look of it always reminded Jude of Clare’s demonic aura. If it wasn’t for his blue eyes and freckles, Gibson would have been Clarence’s carbon copy.

“Look, Papa!”

Jude pulled himself out of his thoughts to turn toward the sound of his daughter’s voice. Grace was standing in the doorway of her parent’s room, holding out the ruffles of her pink dress like she was doing a curtsy. Clare was standing behind her with a smug look on his face, as if he thought he was the best dad in the world. Which he was.

“Now I’m pretty, like you,” Grace said, blinking her large blue eyes up at Jude.

A wave of humbleness crested over Jude and he thought he might fall over from joy. Aww, did his daughter really think that he was attractive? Pretty enough to look up to him as a role model? Judging from the subtle pride on Clare’s face, the demon had probably coached their daughter to say that, but Jude loved it all the same.

“No, Gracie. You’re _even prettier_ than Papa,” Jude corrected.

He walked over to bend down and kiss her forehead just as he did to Gibson. Grace was the exact opposite of her brother. She was shy, quiet, and liked to do things by herself. And while she wasn’t great at meeting new people, she was always nice and polite. Her celestial aura was solid white because it had come straight from Jude’s own. Her grace was as pure as her soul and brighter than the sun. If Gibson took after Clarence, then Grace must have taken after Jude.

The twins were the perfect Yin and Yang. Opposites that complimented each other. Gibson was the sun and Grace was the moon. Both of them had angelic and demonic traits, but their humanity always won out. Jude was honored just to know them, let alone be their Papa…

“Are we ready to go? Have we got everything?” Clare asked.

“No, Daddy. I wanna bring my otter,” Grace turned to say.

“Me too. I want mine,” Gibson added as he bounced down to slide off the bed.

Clare held up his index finger and walked away. He returned only a second later with the twins’ stuffed animals, holding them down to the kids. Gibson and Grace knew exactly which otter belonged to them. Maybe it was the smell or the way the fur looked that helped the twins tell them apart, but for the life of him, Jude could never figure out the difference.

“Alright. Are we ready to go now?” Clare asked.

The twins cheered excitedly, but Jude knew none of them could leave the house yet. Not without discussing their safety plan.

“Hold on,” Jude called, gaining everyone’s attention, “Before we go, you have to tell me what the golden rule is.”

Gibson and Grace looked to each other. The family had been over this so many times that it was probably getting annoying to them. Jude knew how much he got tired of hearing it when he was little, but it had saved his life a few times.

“Buddy sis-em?” Grace mumbled.

“That’s right. The buddy system,” Jude nodded proudly, “What should you guys do if something bad happens?”

Gibson reached over to immediately take his sister’s hand.

“We hold hands,” he answered.

“Hold hands and what?” Clare prompted.

“Fly away to the bunker, where Gan-pa Dean and Pop-pop Cas lives,” Gibson continued.

“Good job. That’s right,” Jude praised.

He noticed that Grace looked down in worry, so he reached down to curl some of her hair behind her ear, giving her some comfort.

“Flying might be a little scary, but you have to do it to be safe,” Jude delicately added.

“And if something happens, make sure you pray to Papa, too,” Clare instructed, “Alright, kiddos. Let’s load up in the car.”

Gibson immediately dashed for the front door, his otter dangling from his hand along the way. Grace, however, didn’t seem to want to move. Jude knew exactly what was wrong, though. In a smooth gesture, Jude scooped his daughter up into his arms to carry her, letting her lay her head on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to fly, my Grace. I won’t ever make you,” Jude promised.

Grace seemed relieved by the statement. She nuzzled in closer to Jude’s neck, hugging her otter as he walked her out the door.

“I love you, Papa,” the little girl whispered into his ear.

Happiness radiated from Jude’s face like sunshine.

“I love you too, Gracie,” he replied.

After buckling the kids into their car seats, Clare took the liberty of driving Jude’s Impala to the bunker. Jude didn’t mind. Clare was a pretty good driver, plus riding shotgun gave Jude free reign of the radio. He turned on some tunes – the Beatles, ‘Dear Prudence’ to be exact – and listened to the kids chatter quietly in the backseat.

“Will Gan-pa Dean be at the bunker?” Gibson called.

“Yep,” Jude answered.

“And Pop-pop Cas?” Grace added.

“Yep. Him too.”

“What about uncle Sammy? And uncle Gabe?” Gibson said.

“And aunt Jessie? And uncle Ollie? And Char-wee?” Grace continued.

“Yeah, they’ll be there,” Clare answered with a smile.

“Even PawPaw Bobby? And Gan-pa Cow-lee? And Nana ‘Wena? And Gammy Meg?” Gibson went on.

“And uncle Mike? And uncle Ab-um? And Katie? And auntie Jane?” Grace said.

“And Ducky?”

Jude and Clare both glanced to each other to share a smile. The kids couldn’t say ‘Dickie’ properly, so ‘Ducky’ had become the dog’s new nickname…

“Yes, yes, yes. Everybody’s gonna be there for Papa’s birthday party, you guys. Don’t worry. We didn’t leave anybody out,” Clare promised.

The twins seemed content to hear that answer. They loved seeing everyone get together. Just like Jude did. When the blue Impala pulled into the bunker garage, Jude and Clare were able to see that Jessica and Oliver arrived ahead of them. Jude’s cousin and best-friend-in-law were getting out of their truck, Jessica taking extra time because of her rounded stomach. She was on the third day of her second pregnancy and shining like a golden lamp. Jude smiled at Jess through the windshield as the car rolled to a stop, but she only smirked and shook her head at him.

“Not a word,” Jessie warned when Jude got out of the car.

“What! I was just gonna tell you how great you look,” Jude promised.

“You mean how _big_ I look,” Jessica corrected playfully, “Don’t worry. Oliver already joked about needing to widen our front door for me this morning, so he beat you to it.”

“Nice one,” Clare mentioned to Oliver.

“Thanks. I have the bruise on my shoulder to show for it,” Ollie said, stepping over to wrap Jude into a half hug, “Happy birthday, dude! How old are you today? Fifty-two? Fifty-three?”

Jude made sure to smack Oliver in the same spot Jessica did, making the redhead wince and laugh. Behind Jessica, her daughter Charlie carefully hopped out of the truck and shook her blonde-ish red curls out of her face. The little girl, only one year older than Jude’s twins, was wearing an X-Files t-shirt, red jacket, black skirt, and sneakers. Clearly, she inherited Jess’s strange sense of fashion. When Charlie caught sight of Jude, she ran up with a big smile.

“Happy birthday, uncle Ju-Ju,” his niece sang, briefly circling his waist with a hug, “I got you a present!”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Jude hummed, patting her back.

Charlie glanced around before cupping her hand around her mouth and whispering.

“It’s a Batman movie. Daddy helped me pick it. But, _shhh_ , don’t tell anybody. It’s a secret.”

Jude giggled, not just because Charlie was giving away the surprise, but because of how much she reminded him of Ollie at her age.

“I won’t tell,” Jude whispered back with a wink.

As Charlie scampered off to meet the twins getting out of the car, Jude noticed his parents walking into the garage. They looked pretty happy, always glad to see Jude come home. Their journey to him was interrupted, however, when Gibson and Grace ran up to great them.

“Gan-pa! Pop-pop!”

“Hey, it’s the wonder twins! C’mere you little rascals,” Dad said, kneeling down to catch them both in his arms and hoist them up.

The twins both laughed as Dad hugged and kissed them in unison, making everyone in the garage smile. Gibson and Grace leaned toward Jude’s Papa after a second, crawling from Dad’s arms to Papa’s.

“Hello, children. Your grandfather and I have missed you,” Papa hummed, embracing each of them.

Jude found the statement a little funny, because Dad and Pop saw the kids almost every other day. After greeting them with affection, Papa put the kids back down so that they could run around with Charlie. That was when Jude’s parents finished their trek to wrap him in a hug.

“Happy birthday, son,” Papa said.

“Thanks, Pop.”

“Looks like you need a shave, little man,” Dad joked, briefly touching Jude’s cheek, “You’re starting to look like me.”

“Starting to? He’s already your equal, Dean,” Pop replied.

Jude smiled and bashfully rubbed the bottom of his face. He could always count on his parents making him blush. Over his Dad’s shoulder, Jude noticed a bunch of other family members pouring into the garage. Sam and Gabe headed for Ollie’s truck to meet Jessica and help her waddle around, Dickie dashed in and started to chase Charlie in circles, and Meg brought up the rear. The demoness, dressed in sleek black pants and a dark purple shirt, smiled toward the twins and they came running toward her with their arms raised.

“Gammy Meg! Gammy Meg!” they sang together.

Meg, who was always a little hesitant about physical contact with anyone, gently welcomed the twins into her arms. She held up a finger afterward so that she could reach into her pockets and pull something out for them. Jude stepped closer to see what the wooden objects were, curious to know what Meg had given his children. Clare beat him to the punch by strolling over to kneel with Meg.

“What did Grammy get you?” he asked, taking Grace’s and holding it up, “Oh, cool! These are Kalimbas, guys. You pluck these little pieces and they make music. Watch.”

Clare demonstrated by immediately plucking the tune to ‘Hey Jude’. He didn’t need to practice it or even guess where all the notes were. He just knew. The sound of Jude’s most beloved song being played for their children was honestly moving. Clarence was so good with music, and Meg seemed happy to contribute to the tradition by getting the twins some instruments whenever she could. Jude couldn’t have been more content with his mother-in-law’s growth as a person... Clare handed the Kalimba back to Grace and she and Gibson started plucking away, filling the garage with random notes.

“Happy birthday, sidekick!” uncle Gabe suddenly said, gently patting Jude’s shoulder as he walked by, “Wait until you see your cake. It’s so pretty, I almost don’t want to eat it. And that’s really saying something!”

Jude chuckled and started to follow the group as it migrated toward the exit. Grace, with her new Kalimba in hand, raced through the crowd to get to Jude and hold her arms up. Jude swiftly picked up his little girl to carry her through the bunker, eyeing her adorable face as he went.

“Do you like your new gift?” he asked.

She nodded to answer, seeming too shy to say anything. Jude totally understood how she felt. Being in a room full of people could be a little overwhelming, especially when you’re so small. The crowded bunker study only made Grace more bashful. She hunkered down on Jude’s shoulder as some of the family walked in to meet the other half. Bobby and Crowley, with drinks in hand, had been talking to Michael and Adam near a bookshelf. Jane and Rowena – both wearing matching red dresses – were arranging cake and presents on the table in the center of the room. But Michael and Adam’s daughter, Katherine – four-years-old, just like Charlie – was the first to notice the new arrivals. The little girl flew from one part of the bunker to the other, flying over to greet Jude first.

“Hi, Jude! Hi, Gracie!” she said, waving up at them from the floor before holding up a comic book in a frame, “Daddy said I could give this to you. It’s your present.”

Jude smiled and took the comic book to inspect it. It looked like an original, vintage Superman comic from the 1930s, displaying the ten cent sign on the front and everything. Jude was so shocked, he nearly dropped his daughter. The small comic in his hand was worth millions of dollars! It was so rare and valuable! How did the Milligans find it?! Jude slid Grace further up his hip before looking down at Katherine in surprise.

“Wh – where did you get this?” he breathed.

“Daddy found it,” Katherine answered.

Jude’s eyes wandered up to look at Michael in the distance. The archangel was already staring at him with a smile, and winked when they met eyes. It was a somber look, though; a subtle way of saying ‘thank you for all you’ve done.’ Jude gulped and bobbed his head once to show he understood. Michael had been through a lot since Jude came into his life, but had also been blessed with so much. Both of them had grown through hardships and became wiser people. The exchange of a rare comic book was just a small way for Michael to show his gratitude.

“Thank you, Katie,” Jude eventually said, looking back down to the sweet girl in front of him, “I promise to take real good care of it.”

Katherine’s smile took up most of her cute face. Charlie soon ran over to meet her with a big hug and the two girls ran off with Gibson close behind. Grace, however, stayed snug in Jude’s arms. She seemed more content to be held by her Papa than to get down and run around with the other kids, and Jude was just fine with it.

“Oi! Where’s the birthday boy?”

Jude turned around at the sound of Rowena’s Scottish accent. The witch waltzed over with a grin on her face, reaching up to tug him and Grace down into a hug.

“Oh, yer as big as a full grown ox, laddie,” Rowena mentioned, patting Jude’s bicep, “And wearin’ a beard to boot! Are ya tryin’ to woo everyone off their feet with yer handsome looks? I feel faint already.”

Jude could feel his face turning as red as Superman’s cape as he shook his head. Rowena always said such flattering comments… Jane came up behind her with a soft look on her face, brown eyes full of bittersweet happiness.

“Oh, Jude, I remember the first time you met me and my Calabaza at the playground,” the Hispanic lady hummed, “Such a small thing you were!”

“The playground? Ha. I remember the day he was born,” Crowley interrupted, swaggering over with his head raised, “In fact, if it wasn’t for my gracious actions, he would never have been born at all.”

Half the room groaned with disgust, obviously disagreeing with Crowley’s take on the family history.

“That’s horse manure and you know it,” Gabe called, keeping the language PG for the kids.

“No one remembers Jude’s birth like I do.”

Jude looked next to him, seeing that Papa had stepped up to smile fondly as he rested a hand on Jude’s shoulder.

“I was the first to hold you, son,” Papa said warmly, “You took your first breath in my arms. And I have loved you every day since... All of us are blessed to have you in our lives.”

Jude swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the mass that had suddenly formed in his throat. Papa always said such sweet things…

“Thanks, Pop,” Jude breathed.

Papa only smiled and leaned over to peck a kiss to the side of Jude’s head. Dad came around to kiss the other side, probably wanting to show he agreed with Pop’s comments.

“Here-here,” Rowena sang in agreement, wiping the edge of her eyes before stepping over to gesture to the table, “Come and see yer cake, love. I worked hard on it.”

To casually exit the emotional moment, Jude stepped forward to stare at Rowena’s cake in amazement. It was two tiers tall, covered in white frosting, and decorated with fondant Bluebirds and Bees. Chocolate tree branches stretched up and around the cake, holding a hive near the top. ‘Happy Birthday Jude’ was delicately written in cursive on the top in red and blue icing; Superman’s colors. A hand full of unlit candles circled the rim like a halo. Uncle Gabe was right. This cake was way too pretty to eat…

“Rowena, great job,” Jude praised.

“Only the best for my wee babe,” the witch cooed, patting Jude’s cheek before sliding the chair out, “Come. Have a seat.”

As everyone started to crowd around the table, Jude stepped up to sit down like Rowena suggested. Gibson soon ran to climb up and sit on Jude’s vacant knee, wanting to see the huge cake up close. As Jude held both of his twins in his lap, Dad reached over with a lighter to start lighting candles. He and Pop stood directly behind Jude while Clare pulled a chair up to the edge of the table. Jude’s husband must have been recording a video on his phone, holding it sideways and smiling at the screen.

“Ready?” Clare announced, “One, two, three – ”

For the second time that day, Jude heard the ‘happy birthday’ song. Only this time, it was louder, carried by the voices of every single person he loved. Michael, Adam, Katherine, Bobby, Crowley, Rowena, Meg, Jane, Sam, Gabe, Ollie, Jessie, Charlie, his parents, his husband, his twins – Jude’s entire family surrounded him like a blanket. Looking at all of their faces in the glow of his lit birthday candles – the smiles, beautiful eyes, all shades of hair color, the heartbreaking familiarity of each person – made Jude’s heart feel completely whole. He couldn’t have asked for a better family… He couldn’t have asked for a better life.

When the song came to a close, and after Ollie shouted, ‘ _and many more!_ ’, Clare slid the cake a little closer and smiled at Jude over his phone.

“Make a wish, Jay,” he said with tenderness.

Jude felt himself take a deep breath, but paused to look around again. He wanted to capture this moment in his memory. Take a picture of it with his mind. His past was behind him, with his parents. His present was in front of him, with Clare. And his future rested in his arms, with his children. Jude’s entire life surrounded him all at once, and there wasn’t a single thing he would change about it. There were no mistakes. Not a single flaw. Everything was perfect. There was only one thing he could possibly wish for.

With help from his twins, Jude blew out his birthday candles, only wishing for his life to stay as perfect as it was in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … The End. (For real, this time.) ;D Are you in tears? Because I most definitely am. :’) I wanted to leave this story in the best place possible, and Jude’s birthday seemed fitting. :) I really wanted us to get a taste of the twins’ personalities, so I fast forwarded a few years so we could meet them properly. My English teachers always said, “Show, not tell,” so they would probably be a little disappointed that I wrote descriptive paragraphs about each of them instead of showing their personalities. But this it the last chapter, so that’s difficult to do. Lol. (Sorry, Ms. Motz and Mr. Callahan.) XD Jessie is pregnant with her first son in this epilogue. She and Ollie will have two daughters and two sons, total. (And Ollie is totally the ‘cool dad’ of their neighborhood. Lol) ;D Everyone in the story will have a long, happy life together. :) 
> 
> I started this story way back in February of 2016, just three months after my mom passed away. It was a difficult time for me, and I thought that writing a happy Destiel baby story would help me get through it. While the story itself was fun to write, it was actually _you guys_ that helped me the most. Your comments, no matter how small you might think they were, literally kept me going. I’ve never seen your faces, but I know each of you by your screen names and individual word styles. And some of you have shared pieces of your personal stories with me, for which I will be forever grateful. Communicating with you – hearing your opinions and suggestions, reading works you’ve written, even meeting some of you in person – has been the absolute highlight of the last four years of my life. I wish I could tell you how much your comments mean to me, but that would be like Cas trying to explain how much he loves Dean. There aren’t enough words to explain that emotion, okay? XD Seriously, though, I want you to know how much I have appreciated and adored every comment made on this series. I truly hope that you guys enjoyed the epilogue and thank you so much for reading it all the way to the end. Of course, I plan to write more Destiel in the near future. (I’ve got a whole new story buzzing around my noggin right now, in fact, that I plan on outlining soon.) ;) But for now, I hope this completed series brings you all the comfort and joy that it did when you first read it. :) I love every single one of you, and hope that you and your family ride out the rest of this pandemic in good health. :) Stay safe, and thank you again! :)


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